Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

(OOC – I'm jetlagged, not had enough sleep, got a bit of a headache too, but none of that matters cuz I gots to write some overdue posts for OW! ^^ Sorry for the delay. Hope everyone has been enjoying the holidays and staying warm! )

“You know why I am a Baron?” Kline said and set aside the empty mug.

“No. Do tell,” Kalena said interestedly. “Some distinguished combat action I presume?”

“I killed a general, one who was talented and clever, and could see what to do on the battlefield clearer then any of Dalen’s generals.” He looked at her, his eyes were focused and his voice steady and firm. “I had one of my men sneak behind the lines and travel to his home. There they lightly poisoned his children, making them sick. When he got word of this he took a unit of men and started to rush back to his home.” Kline took a breath. “He had to leave the bulk of his men at the lines, but he loved his family, so he could not stay. It was not his nature.” He stepped closer to Kalena. “I used that to get him away from his forces, then my band and I, we ambushed him. We focused the force of our attack on him and got his head. The bounty was that land and title. It was a butchery, we…” He paused. “I did what needed to be done.”

Kalena appeared visibly impressed by the tale. She expected that Kline had done something laudable militarily, but what he described was actually quite extraordinary. The sheer strategic daring and ruthless deviousness of the ploy had no doubt endeared him very much to Queen Thalia, who was repelled by sentimental squeamishness, and annoyed by the timidity and lack of perspicacity in her men. Kline's willingness to go to such lengths to defeat and degrade the enemy made Kalena realize she underestimated the man, and had probably been wrong in thinking he might find her former occupation as distasteful as others did. She wished she could remember seeing him fight the bandits. She imagined he was hard and brutal. Kline had that look to him. Did she sense conflict in him though? Some underlying misgivings about the general's killing?

Kalena raised her goblet in salute. “The Queen's subjects live peacefully in a dangerous world only because of those capable of doing what needs to be done. Warriors like you, Kline, and you're obviously a damn good one,” she said in genuine praise. “Her Majesty would do well to make you a general yourself should the next war ever come.”

He nodded his head. “I should go see about that bath now.”

As he gave her a formal bow and left, she drained her goblet and decided after the last twenty-four hours that a bath sounded very appealing. She made her way down the hall to her apartments thinking how wonderful it was to be home. She opened the ornate carved door, pleased at the sight of the opulent interior of her lavish bedchambers; with its luxurious deep-pile carpet, elaborately gilded canopy bed, and matching dressing table and armoire, it was a far cry from the dirty bandit's tent in which she had spent the previous night. She gratefully undressed out of her travel-stained clothes and changed into a clean robe of soft white Kobroros silk. Idly tying the sash, she padded barefoot across the room to the adjoining bathing chamber.

A house slave was in the process of pouring one last steaming bucket of water into her sunken marble tub whilst another liberally sprinkled more rose petals before unwrapping a bar of rose-scented soap and placing it on the side of the bath. After the two slave girls bowed low and quietly withdrew-knowing better than to dare speak without being spoken to-Kalena tested the temperature with her foot before shedding the thin robe and stepping slowly into the tub. With a soft, blissful sigh of pleasure, she settled into the heat of the perfumed bath water, submerging up to her neck. Oh, this is heavenly, she thought, leaning back against the marble, her long curly tresses spreading out, floating and writhing across the water's pink petalled surface. The temperature was just perfect to soothe all her aches and strains and completely wash off a night spent in a chill forest. She closed her eyes and for several long minutes just soaked, luxuriating in the fragrant warmth... until remembering that she had important things still to do, preparations to oversee, and began soaping her delicate skin.

Kalena wondered how many guests would show up for dinner, what with it being such short notice and all. She did not expect everyone to be able to make it. Chiren would come if he was free. Isai would too, perhaps mostly for curiosity's sake, especially after Lars told him about the unusual order of so many outfits. Eliza was almost guaranteed to appear, as the beautiful noblewoman seemed to attend almost any and all social engagements in the capital, bouncing from one party to the next like the proverbial social butterfly. And Kalena was sure wild horses would not not keep Gularzob from turning down an invite, as he would likely not give up a chance to network and interact with potential new upper class customers.

Then again, perhaps nobody would show. That would be a bit disappointing, not to mention embarrassing, she thought, rinsing the sweet-scented suds from her body. Scowling, she reluctantly vacated the hot bath and snatched a thick soft towel her handmaids had left hanging within reach. She dried her hair and gently buffed her body dry, then put on a flimsy dressing robe and made her way back to her great bedchambers. There she examined the variety of evening gowns that had been set out for her perusal. Knowing Lars might be attending the party with Isai, she decided for politeness sake alone that she ought to wear one of Lars' fashion creations.

She soon slid into one particular gown that caught her eye, then stood in front of a carved and gilded floor-length mirror and looked at herself in it. Cut of maroon-coloured satin, the dress featured wide straps that hung low on her shoulders and a sweetheart neckline, revealing a slight décolletage. Custom-tailored, it fit perfectly, tastefully showing off the curves of her figure. She ran a brush through her dark curly brunette hair and pinned it up, deftly leaving a few unruly strands loose around her face, and then added a fringed choker to her neck. She applied some kohl around her eyes and rouged her lips with a vibrant shade to match the gown, and a lighter rouge to emphasize her fine cheekbones.

Kalena closely scrutinized her face in the mirror. I've looked better, she thought ruefully. The cosmetics made her look a bit older than she was, and at twenty-seven she was getting a bit past her prime. She wasn't often overshadowed in the looks department, but now resigned herself to the fantastically beautiful Eliza making her feel mediocre. The two of them got on well enough though, and she was sure that she remembered once seeing Eliza and Tyreth chatting at a party, their heads together laughing at Chiren. If Tyreth had some ambitious plans for the future perhaps he had let them slip to Eliza?

Kalena glanced out a window and suddenly noticed that the afternoon sky was darkening and heavy with clouds. What was this? It looked like it was going to rain and pour. Or maybe even thunder. The wind was picking up a bit too. If no one came to her dinner party she supposed she could now blame it on the weather. She slipped her feet into a pair of highheeled shoes that were the same colour as her dress, and hurried downstairs and out into the back garden, her majordomo trailing behind her.

“Have the rest of the Baron's men arrived yet?” she asked him.

“No, my lady,” Perun said apologetically, as if he bore personal responsibility.

“Have you obtained the dinner attire for the men?”

He frowned deeply and shook his head again. “No, not yet. Measurements have been taken for Baron Lowson and Lafayette and sent via messenger to the tailor shop. I've put a rush on the order and will pick it up myself. We did purchase what is considered the best coffee in the capital. It will be served to His Excellency and the others after they have bathed.”

“Very good, Perun.” Kalena saw the smoke rising from the fire that was keeping the water hot at the guest bathhouse. She wondered how Frogmore would like it and whether the man was as good a swimmer as...well... a frog. She was absently gazing across the hedges when she caught sight of Lafayette's great shock of red hair moving about. She was amused to see the accented foreigner practicing in some odd style, pantomiming as if he had a sword in his hand. She remembered her lighthearted offer early that morning to spar with him to see how good he was with a sword.

Her hard leather heels clacking on the cobbles, Kalena briskly walked down the path toward him, past the streaming marble fountain and the blue painted servant quarters in the rear of the grounds. She noticed Lafayette had good form and balance. His movements resembled a similar school of swordsmanship she had trained in, the same time in which she'd picked up a smattering of his language. “My oh my,” she called out. “Look at that footwork. Très bon! Why don't you come inside and we can do a little foil fencing? I have a training room set up with all the prerequisite equipment. Do you prefer a rapier or a sabre?”