Royal Celebrations

[Existentially Odd]

Lam took the opportunity to sneak through the nearest archway as soon as most heads were turned away from her direction and she felt she was no longer being scrutinised closely.  Picking up her flowing green skirts, she hastened down the short walkway and snuck into the empty Banquet Hall instead, pausing just within the main entranceway to get her bearings.  The flames in the enormous firepit on the right wall had burned low - as had the numerous candles spread throughout the room - since the King had rousingly invited everyone into the ballroom for the dancing to commence a couple of hours before.

Moving forward on unusually soft slippers, she sank gratefully onto one of the bench seats tucked up to the trestle table closest to the fire (it was chilly in the cavernous room and she was without her wrap).  The Captain of the Guard then sighed and rested her elbows on the table top, forehead cradled tiredly in her palms and eyes closed as she revelled in the silence around her.  It had been an exhausting evening and though she could hear the sounds of distant laughter, squeals of delight and the constant rhythm of the music, she felt confident in her solitude and ability to take stock of all that had transpired.

Ostensibly, the ball had been held for the Queen\'s birthday, and many toasts of adoration and flattery had been espoused during the deliciously-cooked meal (it was the last time rich meats were likely to grace tables - even royal ones - in such quantity, given that the Beaver\'s Moon looked ready to concede to the Full Hunter\'s Moon early this year, if the crispness of the air was anything to go by).  At the end of dessert, however, the King had got to his feet again and announced the surprise that was sure to be on everyone\'s lips on the morrow - after fourteen years, the queen was pregnant again.

More toasts and then the mass exodus into the ballroom - to better chat with the queen and congratulate her on two fronts - had failed to quell Wilson\'s bitterness.  Although it should give her hope that a woman many years her senior was still fertile enough to produce another child after such a space; it didn\'t.  Probably because she\'d been seated next to Lord Dagger (she couldn\'t even remember when that placing had begun but it had been many years since anyone but Dagger sat at her right... which had always pleased them, previously) and it just seemed to make the tension between them worse.  She\'d already spared him only the most minimal greeting all night; suddenly hearing news on the subjects of marriage and children after mention and description of another year passing in the castle\'s walls - with him by her side - just seemed to compound the tragedy that their relationship had ended up being.

She\'d rushed into the ballroom and accepted the first offer of a dance without even really paying attention to who it was.  Anything to avoid Dagger.  She\'d got caught up in conversations with merchants after that - all of whom seemed to want a piece of her time just to complain about their lot in life, or about the lacklustre performance of her guards (in their opinion) and generally make her feel like dung by talking about work.

She\'d stood amongst them in her beautiful, emerald green gown - with its contoured torso and corset beneath that pressed the bare, rounded tops of her breasts alluringly into the open neck of her dress, and the double layer of different-coloured green skirts that flowed elegantly from her hips to the floor and floated like butterfly wings wth her every step - and they\'d acted like she was in uniform.  In uniform!  With makeup highlighting her lovely features and her curtain of red hair half curled around the top of her head, half bouncing down her back in a cascade of tresses that Matthew had had to help her create with rags the night before... and they implied that it was her duty to listen to them whine.  Tonight.

It was enough to bring tears to her eyes and now that she was alone with the crackling and popping of burning wood and the lingering scent of roasted meat, she allowed them to prickle against her lids more than she had thus far.  Her nose watered immediately but she sniffled quietly to herself, too busy scrunching her eyes shut and shuffling her hands away from her eye makeup - so that she didn\'t ruin it - to bother searching through the folds of her dress for a kerchief.  She rested the heels of her hands on her forehead, blinking down at the scrubbed table top unseeingly and wondering exactly when would be an appropriate time for her to leave.  She thought now.  Two fat tears landed on the surface before her and bled into the wood instantly, with others threatening to follow despite her efforts to blink them away.  Definitely now.

[Trillian]

"Why is the most beautiful woman always the saddest?" Ridley asked from a lot nearer than expected.  He\'d been stealthy in his approach to her, trying a lot harder than he had in the markets (where he hadn\'t really tried at all, though light-footed steps did come naturally to him), and he hoped that she would think she was too caught up in her thoughts to hear someone\'s approach, rather than being suspicious of him.  Again.
 
"I\'m sorry for interrupting you at a vulnerable time, dear lady," he continued hurriedly before she could voice a protest or a declaration that he should leave - for as she looked the part, so did he, a lot more dashing than he had in the markets (or so he believed), and it would be a waste if she didn\'t notice even a little bit that he was handsome.  "I know our meetings always have atrociously bad timing or taste, but... I hope you can look past my social ineptness and allow me to provide you some company?  It is a party, after all, and I\'d rather spend it talking to a lovely lady all dressed up, than a bunch of suits that can\'t think past their day jobs."
 
He was lucky to have hit that particular mark, for he\'d semi-incorrectly guessed she was crying because of Dagger, who was flirting with everything that possessed a skirt.

[Existentially Odd]

She raised her head the instant she heard a voice, going rigid in expression and posture, mortified to have been discovered at a weak moment.  Sighting the gentleman a few metres to her left, on her side of the table, she was instantly furious wit herself for being so unaware.  She barely heard what he said, so angrily was she berating herself - though the comment about being with a lady registered vaguely, and she realised he was sweet talking her, to a degree.

Her tears had stopped instantly in her shock, but her nose hadn\'t got the message that it was time to erect barriers, so she reached into her dress pocket and pulled out her handkerchief before she said anything, blowing her nose as delicately as she could under the circumstances (it had begun running a lot) andthen replacing the bit of material when she was sure she was composed.  She cleared her throat and then swivelled to look at him, only then recognising him as a bit of wood was consumed quickly and the light flared slightly.  He was the noble who\'d tried to give her a necklace at the markets... a very odd man, indeed.  She couldn\'t recall if he\'d given her a name... yes, he had... what was it?

"A gentleman would\'ve announced his presence so as not to embarrass a lady at a vulnerable moment," she told him sharply, finding she was instantly defensive because he\'d seen her.  While she thought she was alone and crying.  Stupid; she should have just gone home and done it there.  It seemed he would bear the lashes of her internal fury via her words, though.

[Trillian]

His light smile was struck instantly from his face at the ferocity of her words and he found himself gaping at her.  Why was she so damn hard to please?
 
"I just walked up to you," he said in his defense, his voice rising with indignation.  The statemet was partially true though he neglected to mention he\'d hidden the noise of his steps.  "I didn\'t realise you were crying until I came this close and heard you sniff."  Truth.  "I didn\'t mean to startle you," Lie.  "I know that this social bullshit is out of my league but I didn\'t think you were the type to go for the kind of good manners that are programmed into the perfect gentleman.  Whatever the hell that is."  Ah, damnit, he\'d got angry.  He didn\'t like the implication that he wasn\'t good enough for her.  "Sorry I bothered you," he said, a lot quieter, and pulled out a little giftwrapped box before setting it on the table.  "I had a speech ready and everything, but I can see whatever I have to say doesn\'t matter.  But this is for you, because... because you liked it."
 
He took a few steps backward, about to turn on his heel and walk away, hoping she\'d stop him.

[Existentially Odd]

"Wait!" she barked, frowning down at the package.  Why was he always trying to give her things?  It was creepy!  First the necklace (which she\'d cleaned up and even worn once since he\'d tried to give to her) and now something else... that she liked?  Did he make a habit of following her to see what she liked?  It frustrated her that he\'d taken her so by surprise that she couldn\'t even remember his name (and she was usually very good with them, in her job but she was... emotional, tonight), yet he purported to know her so well he knew what she liked!  It was very unsettling, indeed.

Still, his other words had been true; a perfect gentleman was never her preference.  Obviously.  And she could understand that he hadn\'t realised she\'d been crying until he got up close, because she\'d still adopted a pose that could have merely been tired or contemplative.  Reluctantly, she conceded some of her embarrassment-based aggression and softened slightly towards him.  She had liked the necklace...  "What\'s in there?" she asked, nodding at the package.

[Trillian]

He stopped walking backwards and gave her a look that he hoped was appealing mixed with downtrodden.  He deliberated with his answer, trying to decide between telling her to look for herself, or giving her an answer.  He decided to give her a cryptic answer, to instill a sense of curiosity.
 
"Flowers," he told her, though the box was more appropriate for the necklace he\'d first given her, than hiding a bunch of flowers.
 
His hobby craft, however, was delicate.  He dried flowers and placed them on placards.  She\'d stopped to admire the flowers at the flower stall at the markets on the same day he\'d stopped her, but it had been the necklace that had given her the greatest pause.
 
He didn\'t know if she\'d think his dried flower arrangement - small and delicate - would be to her liking or if she\'d throw it back in his face, telling him it was as useless as he was.  He walked forward again and picked up the package so he could hand it to her.
 
"I\'ve always noticed you from afar."  Truth.  "I guess I wanted you to notice me."  Lie.  "Though in a better light," he added ruminatively.

[MissusHow]

Ara didn\'t often get nights off, unless she was too angry at her thieves to be with them, she usually spent her time with them. Planning, plotting, scheming...anything that might sound malicious to the average persons ears, though really it was just a day in the life of the average thief lord. Not that any thief lord was average, especially not /this/ thief lord. This particular night she had felt the need to leave her thieves (if chaos did not ensue, she would be surprised) and come to this...ball. Usually she brought one or two thieves with her to do the dirty work while she oversaw everything, but after the last time, she was going to be more cautious.

Overprotective thieves were not good in her lovelife, and it was something she didn\'t really welcome. She didn\'t need ten of them hounding her every time she let a man free, and her business was her own. Lately, they had taken a liking to being very interested in her business, which annoyed her more than she could say. A night off was owed, therefore. Ara was in a deep purple dress, finding that the turquoise dress she had taken a fancy to had been sold in the shop she went to borrow things from. She was having the taylor make another one, but for a quick fix, purple was her thing.

She didn\'t look too different, the nobles had taken a fancy to wearing darker clothes, rather than the light pastels they usually wore, and she blended in well enough, choosing gaudy jewelry that complimented the nobles overuse of jewelry. Her eyes scanned the room, and fell upon Dagger, seated next to the captain. Both looked very unhappy and quite tense, impossibly enraged at being seated next to each other (she would ask her thieves about it later).

The captain looked very pretty tonight, like a lady, and because of her diminished image in Aras mind, the thief lord thought she even looked a little bit like a noble. But the stern expression on the captains face as she talked to the merchants changed the oppinion, and Ara followed her wearabouts with her eyes, allways skirting away from both Dagger (who was probably going to find her soon, the way he was going on) and her.

When the captain removed herself from the mainstream and turned away, Ara followed, a little closer behind than she intended, for she caught the hint of somebody she had not expected...and looking quite comfortable in this enviornment indeed. Ridley! It seemed he was more dilligent than Ara had thought, and was going after this friendship. She reminded herself to watch him as she seated herself nearby, glancing back at the crowd and picking out Lady Rosaline, whose ample bossom seemed to be more in the way than usual.

[Existentially Odd]

She frowned vaguely, reaching over to finger the box despite herself (how could there be flowers in there?) and looking around almost guiltily.  From where she sat, she could see the entire banquet hall and be quite sure that there was no-one but them in it but... it almost felt like his words were being... performed for a spectator?  Rehearsed, perhaps.  Well, he had admitted to having a speech prepared, so it made sense.

Still, something about being crept up on in such an open space made her nervous; she glanced to the right again, just to be sure, looking at the archway placed in the exact centre of the wall at the foot of the room.  She could see nothing beyond it from her angle, and be sure no-one could see in (because of that same angle), unless they were hiding at the doorway, which was directly in line with the King\'s table... but she saw no telltale glint of curious eyes.

Alone, then.

With an imperceptible sigh, she glanced back at her companion... what in Adora\'s name had he called himself?  It was a family name she\'d known, though she also recalled him saying he was from the wrong side of the sheets.  How that got him an invitation to a royal banquet she wasn\'t quite sure... but here he was, and not just skulking about, either.  Well, actually... he sort of was, now she thought about it.  Had he illegally entered the banquet, just to give her a gift?

Deciding she ought to find out exactly what this gift detailed (she was beginning to wonder if it might be hen\'s gizzards or something equally repulsive, after the way their last gift-giving meeting had gone - she could certainly remember his angry demeanour), she opened the box quickly.  Once she\'d torn the lid off, though, all her rough movements ceased as she caught sight of the treasure that was nestled within.  She froze, blinking, seeing something she hadn\'t anticipated seeing at all.

"Oh," she exclaimed in surprise, and reached in to pull the delicate little placard out.  "Why... it\'s beautiful!" she stated, hearing the shock in her own voice and blinking up at him suddenly.  It was no doubt clear that she hadn\'t expected anything like this (though hopefully he wasn\'t able to imagine she\'d think it was anything horrible).  "Thank you... " she breathed, gazing at her admirer with genuine wonderment on her face (despite the fact that her expression of gratitude had trailed off rather awkwardly because she couldn\'t remember a name to tack onto the end of her sentence).  She held the empty box in her right hand, the pretty dried flower arrangement in her left, and simply gaped at him.

[Trillian]

"Ridley Beck," he reminded her, supplying his full name in case she decided to do some investigating and look him up. He was fairly sure he wouldn\'t be hard to find, what with the corect family name provided, and she would wonder why he lied and made himself out to be more common than he was. Of course, there was no trace of him after a tender age when he\'d run off, so there was a mighty good chance that his parents would refuse to talk about him. There\'d been something in the way she\'d looked a little lost in addressing him that had made him realise she couldn\'t recall his name. "I wished to make amends for our first meeting, to apologise for the timing. I\'ll have to make amends for the second one, perhaps," he said, hoping his attempt at a little joke (presented sheepishly) would be well met. His voice was low and respectful, heard only by her over the crackling of the fire. For one so well versed in stealth, he understood about large rooms and echoing qualities of them.
 
Moving closer, he gave her a little bow. "May I offer you a dance?" he asked, following the hopeful vein, for it seemed to be working a better charm on her.
 
Dagger, in the meantime, had escaped the clutches of a couple of women who he\'d been diplomaticly polite to, flirting very lightly for it was to be expected, and spied Ara floating near the doorway of the ballroom, looking like she was trying to catch a glimpse of something in the banquet hall but couldn\'t quite see.  He approached her, casting his own gaze across the hallway between both the arched doorways, and spied the shadows of two figures together.  Perhaps this was what the exotic young woman was looking at?  From this angle, he couldn\'t see further in.
 
"Well met, Miss Green," Dagger said as he approached her from her side, knowing that she\'d spied him long ago.  His estate was as unattainable as the dungeon walls itself, and many a thief had lost their life trying, finding the blade of Dagger\'s personal security instead (as well as his dogs).  He had clues to people, able to read them, and though he couldn\'t possibly guess that Ara was a thief lord, or that she was even a thief, there was an element of awareness about her that he could recognise.  It was akin to his own.

[MissusHow]

Ara sat, silently surprised by all of Ridleys responses. And most of all by the name he had given out...she woudl have to look into that. He had given her the name he used as a thief, and looked a little smug about it, behind that mask of sincerity. Evenan amateur would know not to give their real name to teh captain of the guard! She could investigate into the name well enough...a small suspicious thought entered her mind...was she underestimating him? Had he gone through the trouble of making noble aliances and making up a background for himself? Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice.

Lord Dagger! Inwardly she cursed herself for not paying attention to her surroundings, outwardly she turned slowly and gave him a dazzling smile. She got up quickly, and curtseyed, opening her eyes wide to look up at him, "Lord Dagger! I had not thought you would remember me! And to come talk to me when there are all these nobles here! I am honored!" she exclaimed innocently, remembering how much she enjoyed talking to Dagger...there was just /something/ about that man that caught her interest and held it.

This calmed the annoyance she had at beign caught looking in on Ridley...an idea flowed in her mind and suddenly she was standing straighter. Dagger! Ridley had probably used Dagger as his source. He was a trustworthy man, and often a drinking partner at the Falcon\'s Mask Inn of many of the thieves. If he asked her to dance she couldn\'t pass up this opportunity. In a slightly wickeder voice she glanced at Lady Rosaline, who was looking over with interest (though really one could hardly compare, she was looking everywhere with interest). "I\'m rather surprised you didn\'t take up somebody like say...Lady Rosaline." she said, suggesting that she had heard of his reputation, and thought it funny (perhaps she portrayed hte picture of innocent naivity).

What a good night this was turning out to be.

[Existentially Odd]

Beck... that\'s right!

She\'d done some checking after their last meeting but it had all come to nought; the Becks were perfectly presentable citizens and had acknowledged that they had a son named Ridley but denied all knowledge beyond that.  She\'d been meaning to get around to seeing them herself, having not sent very... charismatic guards to gather the information in the first place and realising that these were peple who would need to have information coaxed out of them.  She\'d just... got busy and hadn\'t got around to it yet, so she knew nothing beyond the fact that he was exactly who he claimed to be.

She glanced from him to the archway behind him, focussing again on the sounds of revelry and seeing the shadows shift against the wall just beyond the room.  She didn\'t want to return there at all and if she had to (and indeed she must, to farewell the hosts in the proper manner), she didn\'t want it to be immediately after she\'d been found crying in the eating hall.  For all she knew, her makeup had run atrociously and she was all red and splotchy from the tears.  Since there were no mirrors about to be sure, she would spend a little more time out of the public\'s eye and swathed in the shadows of dim lighting.  When enough time had passed that any current patches of colour would have disappeared from her face, she would ask him about her makeup (and not a moment sooner).

"Perhaps... but not yet," she answered him firmly, then added: "Feel free to simply sit with me for a while, though, and tell me where you bought this lovely flower arrangement - it\'s so delicate and I\'ve never seen anything like it!"  She summoned a smile because she was talking about something neutral and lovely; she was not interested in hearing about how he noticed her and wanted her to know him better... she liked it much more when the conversation was neither entirely personal nor unsettlingly intense.

[Trillian]

Ridley sat, encouraged by her invitation and taking the seat close to her.  At her question he gave himself pause, attempting to project a silence of humility or uncertainty - whichever she chose to read. "I... made it myself," he finally admitted, carefully inserting some hesitation. "I don\'t often advertise my passion for it," he said with a truth that was apparent, "as it isn\'t a very manly craft, but it calms me and gives me satisfaction when complete. Time and patience go into each of them," he told her, speaking like an artist on his favourite subject - his own art. "Your one didn\'t take as much time for they are smaller flowers, though need a little more care and patience," he said with a bemused smile, remembering his frustration with the thing but continuing diligently because his was a goal that needed seeing through.
 
"Lady Rosaline is not worth my attentions," he said, not mincing words about the other woman while also implying that Miss Ella Green before him, was. He\'d spent most of the night avoiding the noble woman, in fact, and disliked the idea of Ella fobbing him off onto other women. Especially those he didn\'t enjoy the company of. Mind, perhaps it was a payback for him fobbing her off onto Varian long ago, before the tutor had moved to a different township. Dagger found he missed him.
 
Once again Dagger was struck by how differently Ella carried herself. He was reminded of all his instinctive thoughts when he\'d first met her. There was an element to her that reminded him of himself, and that had him feeling a great deal safer with his namesake once again strapped to his thigh within easy reach beneath his tunic. The Palace Guards knew better than to search him or remove his weapon, though would have done so for everyone else (except Lam). His influence over the guards hadn\'t depleted despite his failure to keep the Captain in his bed, for which he was grateful. Perhaps Lam knew that the guard\'s loyalties were diverse (not divided), and to cut him off from them would leave a distinctive scar on those that he \'looked after\'.
 
He pushed thoughts of her aside, as he always did when memories of her would race fleetingly through his mind. "Has your escort excused himself from your delightful presence?" he asked smoothly, hunting for information as to why the exotic young woman was sitting alone.

[MissusHow]

"She isn\'t?" Ara asked in a surprised voice, here eyebrows lifting slightly. She was trying to pay attention to both of the things that were happening, the one behind her, and the one in front of her. Ridley was speaking to quietly and the thief lord gave it up alltogether, hearing only murmers and finding it more profitable to be listening to what Lord Dagger was saying.

"My father left because of an emergency. He usually hires a guard to watch the shop, and it usually all goes well...the guard came to the palace, and my father left in a hurry. I think it was probably thieves or some such thing...nothing out of the ordinary." she shrugged, and her hands rose to her hair where a ringlet hung lose and she fingered it almost unconciously.

"I was going to go with him because an extra pair of arms is always better, but it\'s the first time I\'ve ever been in the palace...and it\'s maginificent! All those beautiful dresses! If my father owned suche merchandise we would be rich indeed..." she said, ignoring the fact that she was wearing a dress equally as fine. If he asked she would say that the Taylor had lent it to her for this night.

"Speaking of /rich/...what are /you/ doing here without an escort?" she asked impertinently (as well as a bit curiously), trying to fall into the role of a rebelious young woman who didn\'t quite fit...and yet seemed quite naive at times. "I don\'t mean to pry... But you seem like the kind of man who would always have some sort of companion...being so amiable. You did approach me that day outside the church out of the blue, you know." she told him with a demure look, but inwardly she was cackling. How well she remembered their first meeting...in fact, their only meeting.

[Existentially Odd]

Her smile remained fixed, her head nodding... her mind wandering.  She was heavy of heart and muddled of mind and she didn\'t hear much of what he said beyond the fact that he made them himself - though he didn\'t advertise the fact - and notice that he did sit with her, as she\'d invited him to.  He wanted her to dance with him, he said he wanted her to notice him... and his actions spoke more loudly than any of the words she\'d heard.  At least he was willing to concede to her wishes and sit with her to achieve that.  He even seemed interested in conversing with her, but she was... becoming untethered.

She was used to being in charge, and she was here in this huge, lonely room crying because the one person she\'d told she didn\'t always want that power to, was in the other room, and he\'d as good as responded that he didn\'t admire her for her weakness.  This man mightn\'t either - once he really got to know her - and she was so tired of it all at that moment that she found she didn\'t have the patience to even entertain the notion of waging the same battle of wills.   She didn\'t have the energy and she certainly didn\'t have the heart to put herself out there.  But a conversation might be nice.

"Well, they\'re beautiful; I think you must have a great deal of patience and expert hands, to have created something so special.  I\'m honoured you\'d bequeath it to me," she told him humbly, inclining her head and cradling the floral placard in both of her hands, close to her chest.

With a sigh, she then dropped her gaze from him and stared at the flowers instead, not smiling, not speaking, feeling brittle and lost as she wondered why her life had been cursed from the outset and why she thought she\'d ever be able to change it through hard work and passion.  None of it had worked, she was still the same parentless little girl ridiculed for her name and blamed for the death of her mother.  It was just that people expected it not to matter because she wore a uniform and ensured the safety and lives of thousands.

With power came responsibility and she\'d never shied from that, but in the responsibility she\'d expected to find herself and had only got more lost.

"I\'ll treasure them, thank you," she said dreamily, realising a moment or two had passed without her speaking and he was possibly waiting for more from her.  He was no different from anyone else, after all.  She looked back over at him, the corner of her mouth lifted, her voice husky with resignation.  "Actually... I\'ve just decided that don\'t want to dance any more tonight, I\'m sorry.  Please, don\'t let me keep you from it, though; if you\'d rather go instead of keeping time with me here, feel free to do so."  Her thumb grazed the delicate, papery flowers and she looked backed at them, frowning deeply as her thoughts continued to swirl.

[Trillian]

"No," Ridley said softly, rejecting her offer to leave her alone.  She was vulnerable, he could feel it pouring off her in waves.  Now was the most perfect moment to strike, with the weakness in her heart and in her head.  He would have to be sly, though, and not intimidate her nor cause her alarm.  Just because she was having a weak moment didn\'t mean she was about to have a stupid one.  "Truth be told, I came to this banquet for you.  To give you this gift and apologise for our first meeting."  He smiled at her, matching her sad smile as best as he was able.  "It seems I have an excuse to apologise for the second.  One day you\'ll be tired of my gifts and my apologies.  Hopefully I\'ll be something different to you, by then."  Ridley lowered his gaze, shifting himself so that his feet were outstretched before him.  "I\'m not really well-versed in courtship.  My clumsy advances usually earn me slaps to the face."  Well, his advancements did, but moreso because they were graphic, not because of anything clumsy.  "Maybe I should stop looking at those women who are beyond me reach.  Ordinary... bores me, though."  At least this much was true.  "No woman is truly fragile anymore," he said, and thought of another redhead in his life, regretting his lie.  "No woman is truly strong anymore," he added, giving her a sideways glance she was sure to catch.
 
Dagger\'s attentions were fully on Miss Ella Green, by now.  "You\'re full of surprises," he told her, a quip that he somehow felt was an understatement.  She was both forthcoming and secretive.  A mystery girl that had nothing to hide.  The contradiction that was her went well with her exotic features, and he found himself smiling down upon her, a look in his eyes that was nothing but appreciation of beauty.  Not even lust tainted it.  For now.  At her question for his lack of a lady upon his arm, the smile faded somewhat.  "Only half the time do I bring with me a companion for the night\'s entertainment," he explained.  The other half of the time he left with a companion for the second part of the night\'s entertainment, but didn\'t embellish on this fact.  He could play the part of a gentleman, after all.