The gallant Orléanais is accompanied by a very tall, slender young woman. The woman's hair is long and black as the purest jet, drawn up; her almond eyes are also black as night, so dark that no pupil can be seen. She is wearing a fashionable Worth gown of rich, heavy silk, in a pale rose-petal pink accented with swashes of white, contrasting sharply with her perfectly black hair and eyes. Her corset is rather unfashionable as it does not strangle her natural shape into an exagerated hourglass. Regardless, her slender waist and regal carriage do not need the constrictions of a corset. Her dark hair is piled up, but not in New Europan style; it is held by beautiful combs of ivory and tortoise-shell, embellished with gold and enamel flowers, leaves and butterflies. Along with spectacular matching earrings, these are the only jewelry the young woman allowed herself.
Jean-Michel glances around for an empty table; he finds a small one
in a corner on the far left side, away from the musicians and the Dragon
Lord's table, which they walk past.
A steward promptly brings the evening's menu to the new diners. After consulting with Miss Osada regarding their selections from the menu together with appropriate drinks, Jean-Michel’s gaze returns to his lovely companion. “I confess I am most eager to hear you speak of your homeland, Mademoiselle. I know very little of that region of the globe and greatly appreciate whatever light you may shed on the subject.”
Meanwhile, Lord Swiftwing's valet listens attentively to his master's whispered instructions, bows, then walks up to the table the newly arrived Jean-Michel and his companion have settled at. Respectfully, he bows to the two and offers calling cards, then starts talking to them, his attitude deferent.
Jean-Michel has barely finished speaking his question when themanservant walks up to the table, bows politely, and offers two calling cards. "Sir, Your Ladyship," he murmurs. Jean-Michel looks down at the cards, and passes one to Osada.
"On behalf of His Grace Lord Swiftwing, please accept an invitation dine with His Grace and his guests, should you be so inclined." The valet indicates the Dragon Lord's table.
Jean-Michel gazes at Lord Swiftwing's card with mixed emotions. On the one hand, he has been unexpectedly provided with the opportunity to actually speak with a creature whose sort was formerly known to him only from Grandmother’s stories and a book or two, however the timing has utterly ruined any possibility, perhaps his only one at that, of a quiet chat with a most attractive, capable and fascinating woman from a foreign land. Of further concern is the matter of why they have been invited to begin with. He has never met a Dragon before so that could not possibly be the reason. Un moment, this is the very one he saw accompanying Lady Constance so perhaps the acquaintance is through her? Still, that does not explain….
“Your Ladyship?” Sacrebleu, must every woman on this ship be a baroness or countess or some such? Non, c’est vrai, neither Fraülein Rohling nor Señora Rodríguez (such a wonder to see her here!) are of noble blood, although if matters continue in this fashion it would not surprise him to learn that they were indeed of such stock. As his informal chat with Mademoiselle… that is, Madame Osada, is doomed he may as well make the best of the situation. C’est la vie!
“Lady Osada, shall we accept Lord Swiftwing’s generous offer?” Hmmm, now there is a thought to consider. How did the servant know of Lady Osada’s rank unless there was some foreknowledge or prior acquaintance? Yes, this should prove to be a very interesting dinner indeed, although certainly not in the manner he had originally anticipated.
Osada's face bears a very small sad smile, and her head gives a minute shake. "Jean-Michel-sama, I would prefer to let you decide. I... will have opportunities of meeting Lord Swiftwing."
She pauses, considering her words, then finishes her thought. "Although you may not have realised it, I... am a Dragon too." Her head bows in contrition. "I did not mean to mislead you, or abuse your kindness, Jean-Michel-sama, but it was pleasant to remain anonymous for a short while."
Jean-Michel gazes at Lady Osada with more than a little concern. Oh dear. He had no earthly idea that there was such a creature as an Oriental Dragon, never mind that his path would cross that of a female of the species, (which even he knows is a rarity). This certainly does put him in a bit of a predicament! Lord Swiftwing has invited them to his table yet Madame Osada has expressed a wish for anonymity; either way one of the Dragons will be denied their request and, if he remembers nothing else of Grandmother’s Dragon stories, a Dragon’s wrath is never to be incurred lightly.
His choices then are to accept the dinner invitation thereby denying Lady Osada (who he may very well never see again) her desire for anonymity or else to decline the offer, granting the Lady the privacy she requests however risking the anger of a Dragon Lord whom he may very well be in close association with in the nigh immediate future and for some time to come. Hmm… Upon due consideration, his choice becomes crystal clear.
Jean-Michel beckons to the servant and, in a quiet voice that does not carry to the surrounding tables, informs him, “Kindly thank Lord Swiftwing for his most generous offer, however the pleasure of meeting him must regrettably be postponed for a later occasion.”
With a smile, he then his attention to the Lady. “As the Lady wishes for a night of anonymity and it is within this one’s power to assist her, bien, I shall be more than happy to do so. You are correct, I had no idea of your origin however please do not concern yourself over it; I am not offended, no harm came of it and we did enjoy a good match, eh?” Although he is well aware his manners are not as polished as others in the room nor his pedigree as recognized, still he knows full well a Gentleman’s duty towards a Lady. Hopefully his refusal to the Dragon Lord was phrased tactfully enough not to pique that worthy; if that proves not to be the case he will certainly do his best to make amends but only time will tell. For now, however, he has every intention of enjoying a pleasant dinner in the company of a most interesting lady.
“Hm, now where were we? Ah, oui! If you are agreeable I would very much like to hear of the Eastern portions of the world. It is the source of silk, pottery and varied spices but I confess there is a great deal I am unaware of.” He adds an encouraging smile.
Osada smiles gratefully as she sees Jean-Michel's dilemma and decision reflected upon his face. She leans forward a little, raising a gloved hand as if to ask for a pause. "If you do not object, perhaps we can offer to join the Honoured Dragon Lord and his guests for dessert and drinks later on," she suggests.
“A solution I had not considered; my thanks for presenting that.” Jean-Michel turns to the servant. “As we have made rather a late start on dinner, rather than oblige His Grace and his guests to wait for us perhaps it would be less of an imposition if we were to join them for dessert and drinks later on, non?”
Lord Swiftwing's valet bows to Jean-Michel and his dinner companion,
and returns to his master.
Osada smiles. "Ah, yes, I have yet to tell you anything about Nippon, or, as you say here, Japan." She takes a sip from her glass of sweet riesling, thinking. "Where to start... My country has a long and rich history of splendor and stability. Society's order has been decreed for centuries, unchanging, and everyone understands the role to which they are born. From the highest to the lowest, the order goes thus: samurai, or those who wield the two swords; farmers, for they produce the food that feeds us all; craftsmen, for through their skill they also produce that which is new and precious; and finally, merchants for they produce nothing but live to amass wealth. There are also those who live outside this edifice, courtiers and priests, doctors and poets, or outcasts such as actors, entertainers, or garbage-pickers.
"But this is an age-old arrangement that belied the way power and influence have truely come to rest. The merchant class had accumulated much wealth and influence through the valuable services it provided, while the warrior class had grown soft and self-indulgent. The new Emperor, crowned four years ago, understands that we need to change, but in our own way, to meet the needs of the new times. We have no wish to be left in the past by the advancements New Europa and America have embraced. The Emperor, who has taken the name of Meiji, or 'enlightened rule', is only the foremost of many new hearts and minds who are tackling this task of rejuvenation.
"I come from the domain of Satsuma, which was one of the first to take the new path. As you must have understood, I come from the samurai class. Although my family is not of the most prominent, being born both Dragon and female gives me far greater rank than does my birth name. I wish to help my country step into the new times in an appropriate way, so I have come to New Europa to learn what I can."
Until this moment, her expression has been very earnest, but she suddenly grins impishly. "The mighty lords of Nippon may not acknowledge this yet, but the modernisation of the Empire of the Rising Sun will have to include women..."
Jean-Michel frowns slightly at the slur against merchants, however Lady Osada’s comment regarding women immediately attracts his attention. “And how could it possibly not include women? For are not women God’s most exquisite creation, endowed with the finest feelings of compassion, understanding and love while simultaneously embued with the courage, will and inner strength to match nearly any man? Why, even a pack of hungry wolves will hesitate to attack a doe, the very epitome of gentleness and shyness, when she is protecting her child! And when the woman in question is a warrior, even her very words may speak as loudly and convincingly as her sword to unite a nation against…”
Of a sudden, Jean-Michel realizes his own words are becoming rather
more emphatic than is considered proper for a quiet dinner. Embarrassed,
he lowers his gaze towards his wineglass. “I beg your pardon, Lady
Osada, my vehemence is perhaps better suited for after-dinner conversation.”
Abashedly he glances at her to assess her reaction.
"Your words are too kind and noble to carry any offense, Jean-Michel-sama. But I beg you to tell me in turn of your own country, and perhaps of your own travels. I am most eager to learn more of the world outside Nippon, for we hear little or nothing of it in the Empire of the Rising Sun. I have had to research and study much to begin understanding this world."
With these words, she clasps her hands before her and rests them lightly on the table, intent on listening to Jean-Michel's conversation. Her look of concentration reminds the Orléanais of the intent way with which she listened to his fencing instructions.
Jean-Michel ponders briefly. “Hmm… The land of my birth is not easily described. It is a country poor in natural resources with its salvation lying in its strategic location at the mouth of the Mississippi River where all mid-continental river traffic bound for the Gulf Coast must pass. Neither the United States, the Republic of Texas nor the Twenty Nations Confederation care to enter a war over possessing it, however, particularly after the United States’ invasion and defeat as a result of the War of 1812. Each nation believes that if it were to attack, such an act of aggression would drive us to seek an ally among the others. Fortunately for us neither the United States nor Texas trusts the other enough to coordinate a simultaneous attack then dividing the spoils among them; at any rate Texas, while not a formal ally, is on rather friendly terms with us while the Twenty Nations, apart from an occasional raid, has shown no interest in an organized invasion. It appears that, at least for now, they have all decided that the least painful choice is to leave us our freedom.
“In the meantime we make our way through the world as best we can. Given Orléans paucity of natural resources the vast majority of the national income is of necessity derived from tithes collected on goods entering the Free port of New Orléans. No questions are asked regarding the origin of the merchandise and no explanation is expected; this frequently encourages piracy which, I regret to say, is a practice for which Orléans has become renowned, so much so that in many places the Orléans flag is held to be nigh synonymous with a pirate flag. This is truly a sorry state of affairs for the quantity of honest farmers, plantation owners, merchants, labourers, etc. who in actuality outnumber the pirates yet the power, both political and economical, is effectively in pirate hands. There it seems it will stay until a greater source of revenue may be found, one that will be sufficient to support a country yet not encourage criminal activities.
“Indeed, I hope such a day comes soon for, despite its drawbacks Orléans possesses a variety of natural beauties, not the least of which is the fauna. There is a vast assortment of birds, whether one's preference is for hunting or enjoying their songs, the écrevisse are somewhat ugly in appearance but are quite tasty in gumbos, deer can be found if one looks closely enough and the fish are plentiful, growing to quite a respectable size and weight over time however no fish can possibly match the alligator in that respect.
“When I was a lad I was fond of swimming alone in the river while paying no heed to either the danger I was placing myself in or the worry I was causing my family. To impress upon me the perils of such an action my father hired a Cajun fellow to convey me into the deeper portions of the bayou and educate me firsthand in these matters.
“The first portion of the trip was rather uneventful although it was far from boring. I recall the water around the pirogue was opaque and of a greenish-black colour; the day was quite sunny yet we were surrounded by so many trees bearded heavily with Spanish moss that it was as gloomy as a winter afternoon. The only evidence for the true state of affairs were the spots of sunlight that pierced the heavy vegetation; to my eyes it was as if a generous king had scattered golden coins on the onyx floor of a vaulted room.
“So enthralled was I with this magical scenery that I scarcely noticed that we had left it behind to slowly, ever so slowly, approach an open area of the bayou. When I realized we had virtually come to a stop I turned to my guide and began to inquire as to the reason. He held his finger to his lips in a command for silence then pointed to the left bank. I followed his instructions and very nearly perished on the spot from fright. There, much closer than I care to think (even to this day!) was an alligator. Not any alligator, mind you, but a grandfather of an alligator who measured over four meters from snout to tail tip. He was resting on the bank in the manner that alligators are wont to do, with jaws gaping to the fullest extent, presumably to better display his teeth to seven year old lads who were so incautious as to swim alone in his river.
“I turned to my guide and conveyed to him, through silent gestures and expressions, that I had seen the error of my ways and was most eager to depart. As he turned the pirogue about we heard a soft, shuffling sound; to our horror we were barely in time to see the alligator slide into the dark waters and vanish utterly from sight. Now, it seems impossible that an alligator over four meters in length could utterly disappear, yet it did. The guide growled two words foreign to my tender ears (although I did hear them again years later from the lips of a dockworker) and without further ado we departed as swiftly as was humanly possible. The guide’s worried look did not help calm my nerves and the occasional bumps from cypress knees knocking on the pirogue were certainly no inducement to rest and relaxation.”
Jean-Michel pauses to retrieve one of his cards from his vest.
“As you are very likely wondering what was the outcome, I shall spare you
the suspense: Neither the guide nor I were eaten by the alligator.
(Incidentally, in later years I learned of an arrière-grand-père
of an alligator, measuring approximately ten meters, which was rumoured
to live even deeper in the bayous.) It was six months before I would
even approach the river and even longer before I gathered enough nerve
to swim in it again, even in the company of others.” He places his
card face up before Lady Osada but continues to hold it in place while
covering it with his fingertips. “Time passed and, as would be expected
in the natural course of events, I took my place in the family business.”
He removes his hand from the card, finally allowing her an unobstructed
view; he wonders what her reaction shall be when she sees what sort of
airship he is Captain of.
She takes the calling card he finally offers, and glances at it. "An airship captain!" she exclaims. "I thought you were a sea captain..." She glances back at him, notices his cautious expression, and looks at the card again.
"Ah, I understand now the expression that crossed your face when I spoke earlier..." She smiles again, but her expression is now that of a wiser, older woman, not of a girl on a lark. She bows her head politely. "Jean-Michel-sama, I apologize if I gave you the impression that I did not like merchants. I was attempting to describe how the traditional order stands in my native land. I should have made it clear that we of the younger generation understand the usefulness to Nippon of a healthy merchant class. We are not binding ourselves to the attitude of a world long gone."
She looks at the card for a third time, suddenly struck by a thought. "An airship... I wonder if you could... but no, of course." She shakes her head. "The Pacific Ocean is much too wide for an airship..." She sighs, then shrugs. "It would have been fun, no? But where is the Nuage d'Or now?"
“Regrettably she is in Paris undergoing repairs. We encountered an unseasonable storm shortly after we reached the Canary Islands and I was obliged to impose upon ma chère in order to prevent our being blown back across the Atlantean.” Jean-Michel shakes his head and sighs at the memory. “Although the damage was serious I was informed it was repairable, God be praised. Until that day arrives, however, I shall be obliged to pursue the family business by means of transportation other than my own.”
Again Jean-Michel sighs. “I realize you would have no way of knowing this, but even when she was newly built the Nuage was not a top-of-the-line airship yet she traversed the Atlantean. I would imagine a new model should certainly be capable of managing the Pacific…” A far-away look enters his eyes then, as abruptly as a book snapping shut, he returns to the present. In a somber tone he says, “Lady Osada, I do not know where I shall be several years hence so I cannot, in good conscience, offer this as a promise. If Heaven allows it, however, I would be greatly honoured to visit you in your homeland where we would have the leisure to discuss all manner of things, such as your farmers and society and customs and I may speak to you at length of my family’s business.
“In the meantime,” he continues in a lighter tone, “It does cheer me to know that you do not look down upon merchants in general. Granted, I have known several who have brought disgrace upon the rest of the profession however not all merchants are cut from the same cloth. Your comment does give me pause for thought, however. Farmers are not held in very high regard in Orléans as farming is considered to be menial labour, beneath the status of a gentleman. In truth, however, if it were not for the farmers our dinner would be a very poor affair indeed.” Jean-Michel gestures towards the remains of the fine meal and wine before them.
At this point he realizes that dinner is done, their private time together is at an end. Their eyes meet, wordlessly acknowledging this fact; regretfully Jean-Michel rises and escorts Lady Osada towards their appointment.
Although he has previously seen Lord Swiftwing, both the distance and the distraction of the moment prevented him from fully appreciating the Dragon’s alien appearance. As the two approach the table, however, this oversight is remedied and Jean-Michel receives his first clear view of a Dragon. (Or, at least, what he considers to unequivocally be a Dragon for, with the exception of her unusual height, Lady Osada is far too human in appearance in his eyes for him to fully grasp her Dragon nature or truly see her as such.)
Neither Grandmother’s stories nor any book he has read have properly prepared him for an interview with a Dragon Lord. Impossibly tall, unnaturally lean with inhuman, yellow cat’s eyes… Yes, this is indeed a creature of legend and yet, it… he… is patently real. As real, in fact, as She, and quite possibly less patient. Best not to keep him waiting, then.
