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[heirring]

[action + written + crystal]

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[heirring]

And you cannot laugh.

[bouchonne]

I shall be as joyless as Corypheus himself.

[heirring]

And if you hear it and insist that we ought still to coordinate, you must not take credit for the original idea.

[bouchonne]

This seems a bit contradictory. Both hiding a notion and taking credit for it.

[heirring]

It is not contradictory. It is a form of insurance.

[Is snipped right back, brisk and no nonsense. You will not trap her in semantics today, sir.]

The Empress.

[bouchonne]

[ What - A bark of laughter. But it's far from mocking; on the contrary, it sounds very genuinely delighted. ]

You're going as the Empress?

[heirring]

[She has already decided she will need to defend it, and so is bristling and ready to insist,] It is a perfectly acceptable costume for the occasion.

[bouchonne]

It's a brilliant costume, is what it is!

[ Nearly giddy: ]

The person you're going with, then - are they going to be Briala?

[heirring]

What— [Why does he sound so pleased?] No. A chevalier.

[bouchonne]

Hmm. Keener barb if he's a specific chevalier. Gaspard, perhaps? - But ah, it's your choice.

[heirring]

It seems somewhat impolite to ask someone to dress as a corpse, Ambassador.

[bouchonne]

I suppose. But ah, I am so immensely pleased! I thought I would have to instruct you in the ways of Satinalia, but no instruction is needed at all.

[heirring]

Instruct me.

[Ah, there is the old patronizing Byerly Rutyer.]

Well as you can see, I am perfectly capable of managing my own affairs.

[bouchonne]

[ But he's in too good a mood to get drawn into squabbling with her. ]

So you know what the natural next question is.

[heirring]

[A pinched pause.]

Go on.

[bouchonne]

Do I dress as the Divine, or as Queen Anora?

[heirring]

[Another pause. Then—]

Speaker Fabria may have a stroke over the former.

[bouchonne]

[ That makes him laugh a little harder. ]

Thank the Maker we've talented healers amongst us. Colin will have to be standing by.

[heirring]

[What is happening.

She clears her throat briskly.]

Is the matter of costumes all you wished to discuss, Mr. Rutyer?

[bouchonne]

Yes.

[ Then, as another thought occurs to him - ]

Or I could be myself, I suppose. Chasing you around all evening. Miss Poppell, you shall cause a diplomatic incident! Doing my best impression of the seneschal. Wringing my hands and weeping, like you're some naughty thing and I'm the long-suffering bureaucrat.

[heirring]

Oh surely not! You cannot be yourself for Satinalia. For what will you do once I've left for the evening and have no one left to scold?

Besides, the Seneschal hardly deserves such a thing.

[bouchonne]

But it would be amusing, wouldn't it? The Ambassador, on Satinalia, finally not acting like a disgrace. And then returning to disgracefulness the very next day. - You cannot leave too early, by the by.

[heirring]

[Somewhere, she is frowning very hard indeed.]

You would have to wear some staid version of your own wardrobe. And you must not chase too closely.

[bouchonne]

So you would prefer this to my dressing as the Divine?

[heirring]

What I would prefer, Mr. Rutyer, is that you dress as you please. All of these are perfectly fine ideas.