Welcome to Gaia! ::

When Kit Blackthorn had received his invitation to the Queen's Masque, he was not surprised. As a spymaster for the crown, he would have to be doing a very poor job to be unaware that his liege was planning such an extravagant event. What did bother him was the fact that he was certain there were still surprises he had yet to uncover. He was very good at his job, and he made certain to keep only the best in his employ. The fact that there were still mysteries to be uncovered so close to the heart of Sunderland...irritated him. Even it it were the Queen herself who held the answers. Or perhaps especially because the Queen held the answers.

The mysterious Llyr, for instance. He did not trust the man, what little he saw of him, anyway. There was something odd about him - aside from his sudden appearance and unusual eyes. Kit had learned to trust his instincts, and those instincts said that there was more to Llyr than even the wildest of rumors could guess.

That, of course, was why he had decided to enjoy the event with one of his oldest and dearest friends. If anyone could help him discover the secrets hiding at the Masque, it was Andrus. The man may not care about politics per say, but he was at least as interested in secrets as Kit. It would be mutually beneficial, which was considered by some to be an even more worthy cause than friendship. Kit just wanted answers.

"Afraid not," he said. "Though I would wager she's off finding a nice place to hide herself." He glanced at his friend, and his lips quirked beneath his fox mask. If Kit did not know better, he would say that Andrus looked a little worried for his familiar. "I pity any who disturb her; they may find more than they bargained for."

If asked, Kit would have said that reconnaissance was half the battle. He, for one, certainly did not trouble himself with the fact that his particular talents lent themselves more toward intelligence than battle. He found the intellectual challenge more rewarding than shows of physical prowess. Jack, of course, would argue that the a victorious battle was more satisfying. To each his own, he supposed.

"Come," he said. "Do not trouble yourself. Enjoy the party. How often do you get to attend an event as grand as the Queen's own Masque? Just think of all the delicious rumors that are floating around here. Surely at least some of it is useful."

Magical folk, hmm? He supposed, in a way, that that was an accurate descriptor of most of the Masque's guests. If they were not hedge witches who could wield their own power, then they were at least Wardens, chosen by the Guardians of old to defend Sunderland against their ancient enemy. In such a crowd, it was nearly impossible to come across anyone who could be considered normal. Of course, Llyr stood out among all the rest.

"I have not yet met him," Kit said. "Only seen him in passing." He twirled his own glass idly between his fingers. "Her Majesty brought him back with her after her visit to the Wood." And indeed, the mysterious Llyr looked feral enough for her to have fished him out of the forest. Of course, they say spirits usually do.

"Patience, hmm? I suppose you are correct." Such a pity, too. Kit was generally able to play the waiting game. It tended to be a necessity in his line of business. However, that did not mean that he never grew impatient. Quite the contrary. Kit often became most frustrated with all the patience he was forced to exercise. Oh, well. It was not as though it were anything new. He would just have to wait a little longer. As Andrus said, revelations were liable to come sometime today. They would simply have to keep an eye out for them.

Feather's arrival provided an appropriate distraction, at least for the time being. A brief smile flashed on his lips at her little show of favor. "An honor as ever, milady," he said. Oh, he knew that the grimalkin could not actually speak, but that did not mean that her understanding was not sharper than most animals. He would wager that, however the mechanics worked, she understood a fair bit more than most would give her credit for.

Kit grunted noncommittally. He would rather have his answers now, if it were all the same. Showmanship should be left to actors and stage magicians. Though, now he thought of it, perhaps this Llyr was a bit of a stage magician. Certainly, his well-honed air of mystery was theatrical enough. Well, it did not good to focus solely on the so-called spirit. Just because Llyr was the most obvious puzzle to worry did not mean that there were not others.

A flash of color and the screech of an indignant female caught his eye. Turning, he saw a curious fellow traipsing across the dance floor. The wine had gotten the better of him, if his behavior was to be believed. Dressed as a wolf, bawdy laughter announced his coming while irate ladies and a handful of ribbons fluttered in his wake. It seemed he was making the most of the relative anonymity the masque provided.

"What do you make of that one?" Kit wondered, tipping his glass in the possible drunkard's direction - possible, because he would not put it past some men to pretend drunkenness in order to act outrageously. Besides, it was a little early in the day to be so inebriated already.

Andrus's blunt observation drew surprisingly warm laughter out of Kit. Trust his oldest friend to say plainly what was on his own mind. At least they were in agreement on the matter. Well, it was not so difficult to spot the difference when one had been to as many balls, galas, and gentlemen's clubs as the pair of them. "Don't fret," he said, having a good idea what was going through Andrus's head. "If he is faking it, I doubt he has wasted half as much wine as he is pretending."

Kit hummed contemplatively and took another sip of his drink. "I think the ladies have little to fear beyond the loss of a little pride. Our wolf seems to be out to acquire a collection of ribbons, nothing more." It was true. He did not seem to be making any advances on their persons, nor saying anything untoward, just acting a dog and absconding with ribbons.

"It does seem a waste," he agreed. Wine aficionado, he was not, but Kit still had enough of a taste for the drink to know it was a shame to down it when one could no longer taste it. At the least, he could sympathize with Andrus's feelings on the matter. Everyone had their peeves. As for the drunkard...

"A bit of fun, I would imagine," though it was hardly his idea of a good time. As the object of their scrutiny was lost to the crowd, Kit found his mind growing restless once more. Surely there was something to occupy him here, of all places. Fiddling with his glass more than enjoying its contents, his gaze drifted across the glittering masses.

If he did not find something intriguing soon, Kit swore he would emulate the drunkard and find some entertainment of his own - nothing so crass as ribbon thievery, of course, but something that his old schoolmasters would doubtless consider little better than the mischief he had gotten up to when he was a boy.

Kit glanced at the self-proclaimed spirit, who was nearly invisible behind the throng of curious onlookers eager to claim even a moment of his time. Oh, the Queen's purpose here did pertain to all of the magical folk, but he doubted Llyr would reveal the full extent of his power.

"Party tricks," he said dismissively. "He will not show us anything more than that, I think; and he will have to disentangle himself from his admirers before he will have the chance to do even that." He took a sip of his drink, considering. "This affair has more to do with Her Majesty's new project than her new spirit. She would not wish to overshadow the sense of importance she plans to instill in her new Wardens."