It was about that time. I had had the information for a while, but hadn’t done anything about it. Would my mother even want anything to do with me? I mean, I was sort of cast off into shadow (which, from what I gather, is a common practice for whatever reason)…or abandoned.

It’s a stupid letter. Don’t be such a silly girl.

Hello,

I know you don't know me, but I'm your daughter. Or at least that's what people have been telling me. My name is Lucretia LeMarchand and I'm rather interested in meeting you, if you want to meet me. I mean, I don't know anything about you at all, with the exceptions of your address and your name, so I figured it was about time for us to get to know each other. I have some questions and, well, you know. Thought you might have some too. Or maybe not.

Drat. I even blather when I write. Even so, this is awkward for me, so I will send this off without any further delay and let you make the next move. If you want to, that is.

Lucretia

Soon enough, however, a reply arrived:

Dear Lucretia,

For reasons I don't want to dredge up, this will be a somewhat clumsy letter.

If you want to explore the possiblity that we are genetically related, I am amenable. However, the fact that I don't recall giving birth to you means the most benign explanation is you are a product of genetic manipulation. This is not a bad thing in and of itself, but it means to us that we will be meeting as strangers who share a familial connection.

Before we do meet, I would like to know a few things myself. All you've told me so far is your name, and that an unspecified 'they' have told you -- recently or for years? -- that I am your mother. Who are 'they?' Where have you been living?

I penned my reply:

Claudine,

To answer your first question, I was told by Lord Holland of Haven that you and Colmar were my parents. Since I didn't have any reason to question him, I took it for truth.

The answer to the second question is easier. Recently, Haven was my home while I was going to school there. Nothing heavy, just refresher courses. Before that, Amber briefly under Random's reign. And before that, just sort of made my home wherever in shadow, blissfully ignorant of any sort of familial ties.

I didn't mean to burden you or anything. I hadn't considered the possibility of being an experiment of sorts or whathaveyou. So, if this distresses you overly, we can go back to being total and complete strangers.

Lucretia

Dear Lucretia,

Since I got your letter, my loving if insane husband took it upon himself to investigate you -- including asking Ian Holland, a man we both have learned to trust.

Please forgive my prior attitude. I still can't speak easily of why I've developed such reactions, but I do realize they don't hold in your case.

Should you still want to visit, I would be delighted by the opportunity to start from scratch. Yes, Jason will be nice, too. But watch out for the cat -- Ian can explain."

Claudine

Dear Claudine,

Starting from scratch is what we'd have to do anyway, since it's rather hard to feel any sort of ties to someone whom you don't know. I quite understand your position in having a total stranger come out and tell you that she's your daughter. I can imagine it would be distressing.

I do still want to visit, if you would have me for one that is.

Lucretia

A reply arrived soon enough, and we worked out the arrangements. I dressed simply for this meeting, tucked in button up white shirt, black jeans, and black boots. Might as well present myself as I am rather than dress up as something I wasn’t. I brought a trench with me since I didn’t know if Neuvo Sangre would be cool or warm. It was warm, it turned out, so I ended up just carrying the trench along with me.

It didn’t take long to get ushered into Claudine’s presence. I thought she was very pretty, in an older more elegant sort of way. Mature. Friendly too. Or, at least, she smiled at me openly enough. She was causal as well (thank goodness!) in khaki slacks and a white turtleneck.

“Hello Lucretia,” she said to me, friendly enough, but giving me an intense sort of look. Probably looking for any familial resemblances. I could see a couple in her, but mostly in our similarity in our hands—both with long, delicate fingers. Nose and cheekbones were a bit the same too. I must get a lot of my looks from my father.

“Hello, Claudine,” I replied, smiling a little bit. Ok. I was nervous. Here was the person responsible for my existence…or at least donated the requisite genetic material.

She shook her head slightly, snapping herself out of the stare. “I’ve started us out with the traditional cucumber and tomato sandwiches. You didn’t specify whether you were a vegetarian or how hungry you’d be. Ask for what you want, but try to avoid saying things like ‘I could eat a bear’ or ‘I’m as hungry as a horse’—some of our kitchen staff have literal minds!”

”No, no,” I said, taking a seat opposite her. “This is fine.” I don’t think I could have eaten much anyway, my stomach was fluttering like mad. I set the trench aside and folded my hands in my lap, so she wouldn’t see them trembling. “Well, um…not quite sure what to say now.” I paused. “Er, so, how are you?” I asked.

“Existentially? Fine. Wonderful,” she replied, smiling. At least we both had that in common—our smiles looked much alike. “Any day without a war, kidnapping, curse, or the like is a day to be relished and cherished. The weeks have been blissful. Too good to last, but until then?” She paused for a moment, “So…how are you?”

I shrugged slightly with her assessment. Although it was delivered cheerfully, it was still a horrible thing to have to say. “So Carl’s been telling me. Er, about the kidnappings and general nasty business by the family. So, I can see your point.”

“Carl’s a gentle soul,” Claudine told me. “He’s got to be the most successful case I’ve seen of anyone shrugging off their family baggage.”

“To answer your question, uh,” I continued on, “honestly that is, I feel a little weird.” Well, now, that didn’t sound good! “Not bad, just weird.” Better. “Otherwise, I guess I’m peachy,” I finished with a smile. “So, um…” I began again, lamely, “So. Do you have any children? I mean, er, other than me, maybe.”

“Tabitha,” she told me, “mine with Jason…the fun way.” I gritted my teeth slightly, but maintained a pleasant demeanor. “Abe, who is Jason’s decanted…” her voice trailed off there, then she snapped out of whatever she was sinking into. “They’re both joys, but in different ways. Abe’s much like Carl. Jason and I raised him so we’re entitled to be proud of him. Tabitha’s a hellcat. I see her and I see Jason, Brand, Jasra, and myself as a tomboy.”

“Oh,” I said straightening in my chair. “I didn’t know Tabitha was your daughter.” Well, little lie. I did, sort of, but had forgotten. I gave her a sheepish smile, “I was rather bored to tears by Ian and Lord Badger going on and on about the situation in Ygg (though it is terrible—don’t get me wrong there), that I must have missed that fact somewhere in there…”

Claudine laughed lightly, “Oh, Ian and Badger are so used to trying to run each other into the ground that heaven can’t help anyone stuck in the middle!”

I nodded slowly, “One reason why I quit, I guess, in retrospect. I feel sorry for Nimue though—I think she actually does work for Haven, and I don’t think she has the luxury of getting out while the getting’s good.” I shrugged slightly and smiled. Of course, Nimue wouldn’t quit anyway, but that was a moot point.

“People don’t realize that whether or not they have an option is most often in their own hands,” Claudine opined. “It may require trickery, sacrifice, or a thick hide but you can keep your freedom.”

I smiled at that; it was true enough. Then, I sighed, “I wish I could have helped or something there. Tangibly helped, instead of playing diplomat for Haven there. I’m pretty awful at being one. When I offered to Ian to help out, I was thinking about, well, you know, being a doctor or something. Get my hands dirty. Help rebuild, that sort of thing. Instead…” I let that trail off, and shrugged again, feeling uncomfortable.

“No, Ian’s mister stiff-upper-lip,” she told me. “Never come to him pleading, or looking like you’re pleading. You have to be as arrogant as he is to get his respect. He’s actually a good man, in his way, but I’m very glad he’s not a king somewhere…”

I nodded again, “I can see that, all of that actually. I like him anyway, but he’s rather impossible to work with 24/7.”

“I hope you haven’t been trying to do that!” she exclaimed.

I smiled a little, shrugging once more, “Well, not anymore at least. Don’t know what I’m going to do now, though both Art and Carl offered me positions doing something that I love, research. So, I think I’ll take one of them up on their offer, at least. Relax for a while; get settled someplace other than Haven.”

The rest of our meeting went well enough, I think, after the initial ice was broken. I found her to be very friendly, and somewhat comforting too. I don’t know if…well, I didn’t get the impression that she wanted to be very close to me—after all, she didn’t raise me—but that she was willing enough to be friendly.

That was good enough for me.

"Amber" is copyright © Roger Zelazny; this text is copyright © Lana Gjovig and Mitch Maltenfort. "Amber" the diceless RPG is copyright © Phage Press. No copyright infringement is intended.

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