They had provided Lorna Shaw a room within the western wing of Greenmoor palace.

On the very opposite side of the palace from where resided the king and his queen.

That would have been odd, given she was the daughter of a marquess; a rank amongst the peerage exceeded only by a duke. But, once one knew the circumstance of her being here, it was quite easily understood. For although Lorna was a guest in name, she was in fact something else.

And she was on sufferance in this place.

She found the room adequate, in any case. Most tastefully appointed, and with a rather splendid view of Greenmoor's sprawling, encompassing, gardens. Plainly, the lord-king had wished not only to avoid trouble, but also to provide a peaceful, serene environment where she might focus on her pious assignment, free of distraction.

Presently, she was doing just that. She dipped the quill within the ink well again, put it to a blank sheet of parchment, and began to copy from the open bible in front of her:

I fear that when I come again my God may humble me before you, and I may have to mourn over many of those who sinned earlier and have not repented of the impurity, sexual immorality, and sensuality that they have practiced.

As the other tedious passages before it, this one too she must copy seven times. She sighed faintly, exasperatedly, and began doing so.

It wasn't that she was an irreligious woman -- no. But this faith was not hers. In private, she practiced another. It was one secret, among others, that she guarded very closely.

This activity -- a part of her prescribed penance -- was merely a means to an end, like so many other things. She'd lost at the last hand of cards. And needed to ensure the next hand she was dealt, was as favorable as was possible...

Abruptly, Lorna ceased her scribing. Someone at the door...

Surely, the prospective servant she had been told they would send. Well and good. She needed one. Arising from the desk where she'd been seated, she made her way over to the door. She was dressed not in the fine and stylish apparel that was her norm, but rather in the modest, pale blue gown, deemed suitable for her activity. She was likewise devoid of the expensive jewelry with which she typically accessorized. Almost like a servant herself, in aspect. This didn't bother her a great deal. While she loved beautiful things, her sense of her self wasn't founded on trappings.

She opened and cracked the door: "Yes?"

_________________
:: To every life a light that shines
To every heart a beat that's true ::
-Heather Nova, Winter Blue

Hawkgirl: "Standard interrogation technique. I was bad cop." Superman: "You're always bad cop." Hawkgirl: "Why play against type?"

Urd: "I'll just be Santa's little helper...so to speak."

Seeing that it was whom she thought, Lorna gazed upon this servant, briefly taking in detail. Which was nothing at odds with what she might have expected.

"Yes, please, come in," she said to her, opening the door the rest of the way, and moving from Mary Parkinson's path. She then turned and wandered in the direction of the window, looking out onto the gardens, while the servant placed and arranged the meal upon the table.

"The room, and its amenities, are fine, thank you for asking," she supplied. "Mostly I require peace, privacy, and order, while I am at this task, of which I am rather sure you've been informed. Your help in maintaining those things will be much appreciated." She paused for a moment, after that. Then turned from the window to face the servant.

"As well, if there is any noteworthy news, I would enjoy hearing it." She smiled faintly. "Though I cannot afford distraction in my task, some little variety would be welcome, in the name of keeping my mind fresh."

Lorna's expression and tone were sober, resigned. Just faintly humorous, in a self-deprecating way, on the last bit.

_________________
:: To every life a light that shines
To every heart a beat that's true ::
-Heather Nova, Winter Blue

Hawkgirl: "Standard interrogation technique. I was bad cop." Superman: "You're always bad cop." Hawkgirl: "Why play against type?"

Urd: "I'll just be Santa's little helper...so to speak."

"My sister resides in the Duchy of Edinbyrne, wed to the duke's eldest son. I do worry about her...with the Hannish forests on their southern border. What with the brigands out there, and all. No news is good news, as they say. But I should like to know if there is any word, from out that way." Lorna hesitated, then added:

"Oh, and I confess, if Greenmoor has any visitors, that is always of interest. I miss the days when I could visit here, and mingle freely. So many intriguing people come and go from these halls. I would enjoy hearing who is coming and going. As long as it isn't some private matter, of course."

She was gently testing at boundaries. And expected it would be understood that she was. It wasn't lost upon her that Mary's eyes seemed to harbor intelligence.

Naturally. They wouldn't send some easily picked simpleton to tend me...not given the circumstance.

While listening to Mary's response, she made her way toward the table, to take her seat.

_________________
:: To every life a light that shines
To every heart a beat that's true ::
-Heather Nova, Winter Blue

Hawkgirl: "Standard interrogation technique. I was bad cop." Superman: "You're always bad cop." Hawkgirl: "Why play against type?"

Urd: "I'll just be Santa's little helper...so to speak."

She waved a negating hand at the comment regarding any specific person. "No -- no one, specifically. Just interesting personages, in general; dashing knights, darksome counts, ladies accessorized with elegant imports - this sort of thing." She smiled, wryly. "I'm half jesting, only half serious. I've been told my mind is too active for my own good. It was some part of my fall from grace, I am certain. But, truly, I am treating my penance most seriously. I am very blessed to have this chance to atone for my sin." She made the sign of the cross above her bosom. And whispered brief, empty, thanks to the "Father" in whom she did not believe.

Then on to the subject of the food, to which she likewise waved a hand:

"No, actually it is quite fine I think, thank you. It would hardly be fitting to be feasting, devouring rich foods, while attending to the needs of my soul. We of the peerage take so many luxuries for granted, you know; while Christ, the King of kings himself, lived so very humbly and simply. It does make one think, doesn't it?" She took her dinner knife, sliced a roll, and proceeded to lightly butter it.

"I don't believe I recognize your surname, offhand. Quite probably only because my mind is so absorbed by my studies. Who are your parents?"

_________________
:: To every life a light that shines
To every heart a beat that's true ::
-Heather Nova, Winter Blue

Hawkgirl: "Standard interrogation technique. I was bad cop." Superman: "You're always bad cop." Hawkgirl: "Why play against type?"

Urd: "I'll just be Santa's little helper...so to speak."

She took a bite of the roll, while Mary answered her.

Yes, -those- Parkinsons... The Viscount and his wife were the sort who generally kept their eyes open, their mouths closed. And who were somewhat known for befriending higher ranking peers. At least, Lorna had heard them spoken of in that regard. Enough so to suppose that it described a legitimate tendency of theirs.

And had their daughter learned from them?

She met the intelligent seeming eyes again, and speculated. It might be mildly interesting to find out. And, perhaps mildly useful, as well.

She nodded in response to Mary's last statement, and after swallowing her food, supplied:

"I've heard of your parents. And that's wonderful. I am rather sure that you will prosper, here. Greenmoor is a very special place, a blessed place. His majesty keeps and maintains a most splendid court."

His majesty... Once, not so very long ago, she'd been on a name basis with him. But now, it was 'yes, your majesty,' 'aye, my lord,' and 'of course, my king.' Just like any other subject of his realm. How swiftly and utterly things did change, sometimes.

But that wasn't a new lesson. It was one that she'd already learned, most thoroughly, in childhood. She smiled at this new acquaintance.

"The new year is nearly upon us. You will soon experience Greenmoor at its very best."

_________________
:: To every life a light that shines
To every heart a beat that's true ::
-Heather Nova, Winter Blue

Hawkgirl: "Standard interrogation technique. I was bad cop." Superman: "You're always bad cop." Hawkgirl: "Why play against type?"

Urd: "I'll just be Santa's little helper...so to speak."

"I am sure that it is," she said, in regard to the comment about being parted from her family.

"I understand that. I miss my own, as well." Nothing but a straight out lie, that.

What family?

There was the father whom she could barely abide. A distant and almost painfully conservative man; so devoted to his concept of the bigger picture, and to higher loyalties, that he'd little interest or time for the younger of his two female children, who'd disappointed him by not being born the other gender. As well as failed him by reaching a pair of decades in age, and not yet being married off.

There were the various relatives on his side of the family -- most of whose attitudes and views were too alike his, for her to feel anything but faint contempt toward them.

There was her deceased mother's family -- Graecian people, living rather idyllically on the isle of Thassos, in the Aegean Sea -- and little inclined to associate with their daughter's Valesian bred children; unpleasant reminders that it was a Valesian aristocrat who'd taken her life, and a Valesian husband who'd failed in his duty to keep her safe.

And there was her sister, Cassia -- the only other aside from her mother to whom Lorna had truly been close. Wed to the very same bloodline that had produced the killer who had taken their mother away from them. And now busy being the dutiful wife to a shallow swine of a man, readying to bring his first child into this benighted world. Forever mingling their lineage with that of the man who'd dealt them the very worst hurt they could ever have suffered.

Her sister had had no choice...

No. No, that isn't true. I too was betrothed...and I chose other than compliance to father's will. There is -always- choice!

And because it was so, she couldn't quite bring herself to forgive Cassia, although she still had love for her. But Cassia would never again feel truly like family to her. Not with her first and foremost commitment being to an enemy. Not while nurturing and raising their heirs.

She briefly considered Mary again; this hopeful aspirant, this probable, would-be climber. And knew some vague sense of sympathy. Yes, welcome to Greenmoor! Den of climbing, slithering, snakes. All bent upon reaching the royal bird's nest, and dining upon its bejeweled eggs! If you've not already relinquished your innocence, I do hope that you place no great value upon it...

"I am certain you will make friends here, Mary. And it will ease the ache of being parted from your family. Well. This food is just fine; I must dine, then return to my assignment. I need to be diligent, if I am to complete it in the time I was given. There is nothing else I need, right now."

_________________
:: To every life a light that shines
To every heart a beat that's true ::
-Heather Nova, Winter Blue

Hawkgirl: "Standard interrogation technique. I was bad cop." Superman: "You're always bad cop." Hawkgirl: "Why play against type?"

Urd: "I'll just be Santa's little helper...so to speak."

Lorna watched her new servant depart, considering Mary Parkinson for just another moment, ere returning her attention to other matters. And not her penance in progress; no...finishing that was merely a matter of some discipline, and invested time.

No...it was more relevant things which were at the fore of her attention.

Such as whether or no she would be giving Theodore a gift. And, if so, what.

She'd conceived several ideas, thus far...but, nothing that would really achieve any worthwhile effect. Other than observing propriety, and playing along with her role of repenting adulteress.
That was important...but, not too much so. Completing her penance was enough, she reckoned. Going further might even be construed as kissing the royal rear; though not by Theodore himself. He knew her better. But, there were others who might see it that way. And it would not serve her, going forward from here. That sort of thing engendered no respect amongst the peerage.

She arose from the table, and turned to gaze from the windows, once again. Yes...the new year was almost upon them all. And, with it, a time for new resolutions.

And as Lorna Shaw looked and thought, for some little while, at least two of those began to carefully take form.

_________________
:: To every life a light that shines
To every heart a beat that's true ::
-Heather Nova, Winter Blue

Hawkgirl: "Standard interrogation technique. I was bad cop." Superman: "You're always bad cop." Hawkgirl: "Why play against type?"

Urd: "I'll just be Santa's little helper...so to speak."