Feast for Fools | Cillian & Aria
Lord Ormond must make an appearance at every feast Roderick held following each tournament day. Cillain Frost could not. But it would certainly be noticed, he knew, if Lord Ormond were not to appear -- Cassandra would certainly notice it and she would talk of it. And, given the intrigues in which Cillian Frost was even now embroiled, he could ill afford such talk surrounding either one of his pseudonyms. Fortunately, he knew there was at least two people at the palace who would help him account for any lost time spent mucking about in the palace cellars (transformed by Roderick, now, into dungeons). One was Ciara, the other...was Aria, now that she knew his true identity.
Since Ciara was unfortunately distracted, Cillian sidled up to Aria with a wry smirk, wearing all the finery Ciara had smuggled to him that he might appear more in character. Roderick's sartorial laws, alone, would have had him in trouble for this, little less his stunt of pretending to be noble -- or the far greater one of wanton revolt, but Cillian was at present far less concerned by any such mischief than he was about disguising the fact that he'd ben missing from the feast for over an hour's time.
Forgoing any other greeting (a relief, as he refused to call her 'my lady' something he could hardly avoid in a greeting), as if he'd been with her previously, Cillian simply launched into conversation without preamble.
"Now that you've had some time to witness the dance, you really must give me your opinion upon the partners with the lightest feet. It's no secret, I'll own, that our conquerors' style of dance is much different from our own, but I still believe some skill must remain measurable, don't you think?"
In truth, he cared not a hoot for this topic at all, but he wished to give the impression to any who might overhear that he had emerged from the crowd to reignite a topic previous to the evening and, the dancing having just begun, it gave some excuse.
"Ah, but I do not see the two firstborn princes on the floor? Where are they?" His smile turned playful as he looked to Aria. "Too timid of our judgment, are they?"
In truth, this was another reason for bringing up the dancing. He knew well and good what would happen should someone who knew him as Cillian Frost recognize him here. Besides the Malconaires, whom Cillian had already taken home, Arthur knew him...and Edmund knew him so well he had gone so far as to banish him from court. Neither seeing him in his current regalia would prove a good thing -- but one alternative would, he imagined, prove decidedly more disastrous than the other. Particularly given that Cillian had noted Rosie's recent mood and imagined that the cause had indeed proved that talk with Edmund which Cillian had enforced, a thing he imagined would only further dislodge any goodwill Edmund might once held for Cillian.
Cillian had accounted for Arthur, already, who seemed to be having what Cillian could only guess was a decidedly serious and absorbing conversation with his queenly mother, but Edmund he could not seem to locate at all -- and that worried him. Was he lurking somewhere, watching? As Aria lived with him, he harbored some hope that she might prove able to account for his whereabouts.
