Cloak and Scalpel

ABERLEEN ARC: Lullaby

Odette's lovely violet eyes widened beneath her cloak.  She quickly drew me down on to the seat beside hers, her expression panicked.  "Ssssh!" she said, her cheeks flushing.  "You mustn't be so loud, please!  As you can see, I'm here incognito, much like your friend over there."

She glanced over my shoulder to where Aamon stood.

He slid smoothly into the seat next to mine.  His arctic eyes were fixed intently on Odette, a small smile curling his lip as he regarded her.  "And what," he began softly, "is the scion of House Alvin doing all the way out here, far from Swan Castle?"

Odette flushed.  Her eyes regarded his face, lingering on the scar on his lower left jaw.  "Duke Paxley, correct?" the Swan Princess asked, her eyebrows raised knowingly.

"Her Highness is certainly sharp," Aamon commented dryly.

"Well, I made it a point to memorize the faces of the most important people in the empire, like a good heir should," Odette said.  "Yours happened to be one of them, Your Grace.  How could you not be, being the most influential man in Moniyan?"

"Indeed, a keen observation," Aamon conceded.  "Now, to my question, Your Highness—what are you doing so far from Swan Castle?"

Odette hesitated, her eyes darting between Aamon and me.  "If I tell you, do you promise not to send me back?" she asked as she began twiddling her thumbs.

Aamon and I nodded.  "I have no intentions of intervening in matters that don't concern me, or the Paxley family," Aamon said.

"Well...it's not like I can make you do anything you don't want to," I added.  Despite appearing gentle and kind, Odette was a powerful mage both in-game and in the lore.  She was perfectly capable of wiping out enemy heroes with her ultimate spell.

Odette let out a sigh of relief.  "Well, if you must know, I'm searching for someone," she said, her eyebrows raised beneath her hood.

Aamon tilted his head.  "Someone?" he asked.

I didn't have to guess who.  During the farewell banquet for Silvanna, Aamon had mentioned that someone already.  "You're looking for Lancelot, aren't you?" I asked.

Odette's eyebrows rose so high they threatened to vanish into her hair, and a faint blush appeared on her cheeks.  "Ssssh! Not so loud!" she said with a breathless whisper.  She glanced around us, but the inn was filled with all manner of guests—drunk humans and elves, mostly, all singing bawdy songs of revelry.

"Sorry," I said quickly, lowering my voice.

The Swan Princess turned back to me.  "How do you know about Lancelot?" she asked with a curious tilt of the head.

"If I may suggest, Your Highness," Aamon said, politely interrupting our exchange.  "My party and I will be staying in several rooms at this inn.  You may stay with us tonight, if you wish."

"Oh," Odette began, "that's most generous of—"

"Princess!"

Aamon and I blinked as a swan popped up on the other end of the table. "Princess, I've found you!" the swan said.  He was was wearing a white feather collar around his long neck, held together with a bright blue bowtie.  The swan looked...flustered.   I wasn't so sure, though, since I didn't know many animals that could talk.  But I knew this talking swan from Odette's lore, anyway. 

"Featherdown!" Odette said, her voice as frantic as the swan's expression.

Aamon leaned towards me.  "A...talking swan?" He sounded bemused.

"He's Odette's friend and retainer, sort of," I whispered to him.  "His name is Featherdown."

"It's amusing to know you aren't all that perplexed," he pointed out.