After straightening his rooms as much as possible, and taking his things up to an unused guest room, he sat down heavily upon the bed. The warrior took out his Trump deck, fingering one in particular thoughtfully. Only when there's proof... he thought to himself. Shuffling that one back into his deck, he pulled out Fiona's instead. She answered almost immediately.

"Yes?" answered Fi, looking messed, as if curling her hair--which is only half curled. "Oh, it's you Benedict."

Jeez. Needn't be so happy to see me, Fi. He cleared his throat. "Fiona...I just wished to talk to you for a bit," Ben said, then paused, "To see what you think of this...situation."

"Which situation, brother?"

He waved his hand, trying to look nonchalant, "Eric."

"I think he's more trouble now, than when he was kicked out." Fiona's normal happy glow was replaced by a frown at the mention of Eric's name.

Ben muttered under his breath, "That's an understatement.." However, he said in his normal tone of voice, "Yes...but more of what I wanted was your opinion on the situation as a whole. Eric has complicated things tenfold, but the situation with Father remains still to be dealt with."

"How has Eric complicated things ten fold?" she asked blankly. C'mon, Fi, I'm in no mood for games and playing at being ignorant here, Benedict thought to himself, somewhat perturbed.

"He has, let's leave it at that for now."

"I know it probably doesn't matter to you, but secrets add wrinkles brother dear." Was that a slight smile on her face? Was she making fun of him?

He frowned, looking tired, "I just wanted to know what you thought of this mess, but if you insist on asking questions, yet giving nothing back..." He moved his hand as if to run it over the card, to break the contact, hoping to call her bluff, if it was one. If she wanted to play hardball, so could he.

"And if you insist on acting as childish as Gerard, you might as well cancel the contact." Her gentle voice faded away into a tone of steel. Aha! Struck a nerve.

He stayed his hand, "Then your opinion?"

"Means precious little. Eric has made plans, you've made plans, the Captain has made plans, all of you are off making plans, and reaching out to me, why I'm not sure. I, for one, am more intent on mourning their loss for now, and being emotional for a while. I don't like the way you swallow everything deep down, acting more machine than man, and I won't be like you."

He listened, giving a slight shake of his head, "Never asked you to." He paused, waiting for her to fill the silence.

"So what are you asking of me then? To back up what opinion you have already formed? to help you form one? To get me involved with whatever is ticking in your mind, and help bring Bleys and Brand into it?" She was awfully defensive today, Benedict mused to himself while trying to keep hold of his temper.

"Brand and Bleys can stay out of this. Tis between you and I." He paused again, saying a few seconds later, "I just wished to know your thoughts, and ask some advice, as there's a decision I've having trouble making."

Fiona cocked a thin red eyebrow. "And what decision is that?"

"About the regency, while Father is gone."

"Seems a rushed decision, brother."

He shrugged, "Seems it has to be. I don't care much for this sort of thing myself, but I'll be leaving soon, briefly, I hope...and I want the throne, the country, safe. Best, surest way to do it is making sure the throne is sat upon by someone competent."

"I don't remember you nominating yourself to journey off with Eric into shadow."

"I didn't."

"So where are you leaving to?" She was pushy for information, trying not to give any out. So much for respect, he thought, starting to get a bit flushed in the face.

He shook his head again, "I'd rather not say."

"Again with the secrets brother."

He didn't say anything, letting her draw what conclusions she will.

"I'm not in the habit of giving my thoughts to one who hides their own. Especially under such suspiscious times."

That was it. Benedict snapped, "Do you think I'm responsible for their disappearance? I tell you now that I'm not, and working in the best interest of keeping Amber safe."

"Now the question is, keeping Amber safe from who. You have been off in shadow for a long time after all. Longer than any of us, save Eric."

"Ask Eric about it. He'd know better than I."

"I grow weary of your double talk Benedict. Make your point, or go on and find another younger sibling to use as your puppet Regent."

He shrugged again, saying, "Forget I asked then." Benedict swept his hand over the card, breaking the mental contact between the two. Fuming, he kicked a box across the room and started to pace. All the while he paced, he kept thinking to himself, Can I expect that treatment from the rest of them? I didn't ask to be oldest, dammit!

After a few minutes of restlessly moving about, he sat himself upon the bed again, and started plotting out the best move to make next.

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