Iago’s Guest Chambers [Azazel]

Iago’s Chambers, regardless where he roams, always seem to have a dark, gothic look about them. Because he is a necromancer, there are various sinister-looking objects in the way of décor: skeletons being re-assembled, various jars containing unsettling contents, a wealth of crystals glowing with varying shades of benevolent or ominous intentions.

One thing Iago takes with him everywhere, however, is a delicate music box that plays a rather haunting melody...

* * * *

(A day or so after the Ball)

Iago strode into his guest chambers and with an unexpected gentleness he eased open the lid to the music box upon the chest of drawers... a trinket the sorcerer always carried with him. He had been invited to breakfast with the Duchess, and had decided after a while in the company of said woman and a few of her officials that he would see to a few matters of his own whilst Elektra tended to her duties. In due time would he once again enjoy her company. But for now, business had to come before pleasure.

A weapon lay upon the desk in his chambers, glittering dangerously in the dim light from the sun filtered through black curtains and a number of candles alike. It was nothing but a simple sword, forged from a custom alloy at his request by a Danothosian smith. However, once the sorcerer finished with it, it would become a weapon to trap the soul of Baron Yorick, his father, without causing himself to die in the process considering their souls were loosely bound. Iago hoped to eventually find a useful individual to do the deed for him, but would not be disappointed if it was he who dealt the killing blow. It would be a pleasingly ironic death, that the son whom he’d ordered killed returned to smite the father...

With a slight chuckle as he seated himself at the desk, Iago opened up a box containing various crystals. Dark eyes surveyed the contents in contemplation, attempting to decide which ones would work best to transform the sword from mundane to magically efficient.

*In Danothos*

In the halls if the Baronay Danothos, a small girl, smaller then one would expect for the age of 7 years ran through the halls on bare feet.

Her feet snapped against the stone floor as her small legs ran as fast as she could..

Three or so guards were behind her chasing after... thumps of their boots on the floor echoed throught out the halls. Shouts for the little girl to hault could be heard, however they fell on deaf ears as the girl continued to run.

The girl, named Lyra had just finished a successful prank on the baron of the castle... Grape jellie was placed in his leather gloves...

There was already a cut on her arm from start of the chase, and it was still bleeding, she was beinging to tire and the guards were to close to hide any where.

The her footing stumbled and she fell on the floor, she moment lost and her breath gone the castles guard caught up with her quickly. She whimpered when one of the guards grabbed her roughly by the arm and pulled her up.

Momentarily she wished that master Iago was here, he for some reason unknown to her he covered for her.. protected her..

As she prepared for her punishment her thoughts stay focued on Iago, the only person she trusted..

"Master Iago..." was all the young Lyra of Danothos thought.. before she sucummed to her fate...

Iago had just finished selecting and binding the crystal - a blue-black gem of simple beauty - to the blade when he heard a familiar voice... faint and ethereal, and as if it had come from directly behind him.


Lyra... Iago recognized the voice. There was only one way in which he could have heard her voice so clearly: the twin black crystals which they used to communicate when he was away. It was unusual that she would call for him. Thus, the sorcerer brought out the jewel and murmured a spell so that he might better see what circumstances the servant girl was in. He did not even for a second trust his father to leave her be in times such as this. While Iago did all he could to protect her while he was present in Danothos, he could do little when away on diplomatic assignments to Azazel.

Or so Baron Yorick appeared to think.

Immediately the crystal provided a scene of the goings on in Danothos, particularly regarding the young girl who owned the other portion of gem to which his was bound. Raven eyebrows knitted with a degree of concern and anger at seeing his friend, albeit a servant, being taken forcibly to an unknown location.

"Lyra... Prithee what is going on?! Merely think your words, and I shall hear them. We must not make the guards suspicious... for now," Iago half spoke, half thought.

*In Danothos *

Lyra started to retreat back inside her self as the guards practically dragged her to her punishment.. There strong grip on her small arms casueing pain, but she remaind silent..

Then..

"Lyra... Prithee what is going on?! Merely think your words, and I shall hear them. We must not make the guards suspicious... for now,"

Immediately a massive amount of shame filled her for accidently letting her pety thoughts escape her and go to Iago and troubling him.

"I am sorry... I..." she paused privately trying to think of how to explain and pull her emotions together.

In a very small almost reluctantly she made a confession to her thoughts...

" I put grape jelly in the barons gloves... he was apperently in a worse mood then usual... he blamed me right away... So I ran.. but I bleed and tired after some bit... the guards caught me.." she thought over.. though sounding much more guilty about being caught then the actual deed done...

"I the guards are taking me for punishment..." she thought over faintly.. wishing.. hoping she could pass out before she got there....

Iago’s magic within the crystals did not allow him to sense emotions unless it was present in words. However, from the image being shown him he could tell Lyra was definitely at a low in her young life.

"I am sorry... I... I put grape jelly in the baron’s gloves... he was apparently in a worse mood then usual... he blamed me right away... So I ran.. but I bleed and tired after some bit... the guards caught me... the guards are taking me for punishment...” came her soft reply.

He listened patiently, as he always did. A sorcerer that did not observe or even heed actions of others was an inadequate one indeed by his teachings. A slight smirk curled his lips in hearing of and visualizing the prank that had been pulled. But sadly, now was not the time to sit and laugh at the deed. “Apologize not,” Iago thought/spoke to her reassuringly. “No saint am I, but would rather hear of this now than ponder thy absence. Thou shalt not be punished, if I have anything to say about it.”

Iago hastily and deliberately knocked over a bottle of sand on his desk, causing the contents to cascade onto the floor. With a bit of magic he managed to coerce the fine powder into a circle big enough for a grown man and a small child to stand in. Iago then drew various odd-shaped symbols within and around the sand using the staff of ebony he had crafted some decades hence. “I am getting thee out of there... It shall feel... a bit odd.”

A series of syllables left his lips as he muttered the beginnings of an incantation. The bright sunlight filtering through the black curtains of his chambers darkened, as though clouds dark as night had taken the sun away without diminishing the light within. Iago could feel his subconscious separate from the Self, appearing in Danothos as little more in appearance than a ghost. Between a pair of marching guards was little Lyra, the child for whom he was determined to perform this draining piece of magic. One wrong move could harm them both, the sorcerer more than Lyra, yet he remained confident. He hadn’t learned the ways of magic for four decades to fail in something like this.

“Lyra Ncatharal Vali!” both illusionary and the real Iago shouted, able to be heard in both locations by any that had stopped to listen or happened to be in the immediate area. The illusion's voice was... unnatural... distorted, far deeper and more demonic-sounding than that of its owner.

When Iago blinked next, he could no longer see both his chambers here and the hallway of Danothos as though they were one. And, glancing downward, he found the child he’d plucked from certain doom. Yorick would not be pleased if he ever found out, but he hardly cared as of now. In the event Iago had his way, he reckoned that the Baron would be extremely lucky to live out the rest of the year.

*In Danothos *

Lyra had not expected Iago to answer her the way he did after she explained..

“No saint am I, but would rather hear of this now than ponder thy absence. Thou shalt not be punished, if I have anything to say about it.”

Lyra blinked, confused as to how he could stop it being so far away.

“I am getting thee out of there... It shall feel... a bit odd.”

She bit her lip, nervous, yet curious as to what he was planning.

"Okay... thank you" she meekly thought over to him.

A few moments later the guards halted in there place and stared in fright at the ghostly figure infront of them... One let go of Lyra's arm quickly and ran from the figure. The other stood frozen in fright and hold little Lyra's arm quite awkwardly..

As for Lyra, she stared at the figure in awe, and reached out her hand toward him. It was Iago she was sure... if felt like him.

She took in a breath, at having a strange feeling wash over her... like, fine grains of sand gently rolled over her body... it smooth and cool and strangly comforting.

*Now in Azazel*
When she breathed out she was in a different room... no guard was present and she stood infornt of the real Iago..

She dropped to her knees, partly out of weakness and partly out of respect for him and gratiude for rescing her from what was surely to be a unpleasent evening.

"Thank you" she said quietly

Iago inhaled sharply, mind and astral self snapping back into his mortal form. He hadn’t realized he wasn’t breathing for several moments. That was the thing about that particular piece of magic: one needn’t concentrate on breathing, nor was it a requirement on that plane, unlike in the physical realm. He never found the feel of sand washing over one’s body comforting, the sensation putting him in mind of what it would feel like to be buried ... something that could’ve happened when he himself was not much older than the child whom he’d just saved.

It had been fairly dark, the place in the castle where Lyra had been. Thus the sorcerer had to blink several times to adjust his eyes once again to the sunlight filtering into his room. The circle formed in sand he’d spread glowed a faint blue for a fraction of a second. Iago kept a good grip on his staff, but was also grasping the hand of the little girl with him. He nearly collapsed beside Lyra, but his pride and will to keep fighting anything that would bring him down won over. The girl was soon lifted from her kneeling position and placed upon the lavish bed with its onyx-hued, velvety coverlet.

“There art no need to thank me, Lyra,” Iago replied, sitting beside the child. As though to hide the fact he’d done magic in his chambers – rather pointless considering he was known a sorcerer as well as ambassador – Iago murmured a spell to get rid of the sand drawing on the floor.

“You said you were hurt... these should help” he stated calmly, though concern glittered in the background of his dark eyes and handed her phials of potion and salve meant to clean and heal wounds. With the other hand he absently brushed the few remnants of sand from Lyra’s knees. “You know how to use them, correct?”

There was something he wanted to tell his young friend about his past, but was having a hard time getting up the nerve to actually speak it aloud...

Lyra stifly sat on the, in her humle opinion very comfortable bed, she felt very out of place on it... like she was contamidating it with her dirtly feet and bloodied arm and fingers...

She looked at him wide eyed when he said there was no need to thank him... of course there was..

"You saved me from No doubt a unpleasnt night Master Iago, you have my thanks, weather you need it or no.. That was no simple spell you used... I know that much" she muttered.. some part of her could feel the power he used. why she could feel it she didn't know.. but she just knew..

She blinked in surprise when he gave her the healing salves, she usually made due with water, soap, and bandages. potions were for the rich and eduacted.

"For me?" she asked soflty as she took the offered vials, these wouls heal the bleeding cut on her arm in no time..

She nodded her head almost excitedly at the thought of using the healing salves on her skin..

"Yes" she said not about to admit she has sneaked into a thought to be locked library.. even though she could hardly read but a few words she did see a pictures of how to use the healing salves.. she had commited to steps to her memory.

She then without hesitation started to treat her own cut with them.

When she finished she smiled and nodded to Iago, silently saying thanks again...

Iago’s eyes widened slightly in curiosity as to how she knew precisely how much energy that spell required. However, for the moment he merely shrugged it off in thinking that children generally thought magic required much energy. That thinking didn’t fully make sense given what he knew about Lyra, but it would have to suffice for now. “I... I shall endure,” the sorcerer answered, taking a tone with her as though she were a near-equal of his in magical prowess. Indeed, after some rest, he would be fine. “My only care... is that you were not severely harmed.”

He nodded at her quiet inquiry. “I have plenty. And here you would not be wrongly accused of stealing, I assure you. The ruling Duchess is not so paranoid as Baron Yorick.”

The sorcerer patted Lyra on the shoulder, leaving her briefly to address the guards at his chamber doors. Opening the door, Iago allowed only his head to be seen. “Send the palace seamstress to me with a dress befitting a Lady of the court...” he ordered. At the odd expression on both guards’ faces he opened the door further and cuffed one about the head with his staff. “It’s not for me, you twit! There is a seven-year-old girl in here as my guest that requires a new attire!”

“Y-Yes, Lord Iago...” one of the guards murmured before running to fetch the seamstress.

Iago immediately slammed the door and returned to Lyra’s side. He nodded in reply to her silent thanks, and returned a fraction of the smile she’d given him. “Keep the vials with you... they are yours to keep,” he murmured, once again hesitating to say what he felt Lyra needed to know. It would answer why he brought her here, and why he served the Baron. Perhaps it would even explain, in part, why he covered for her whenever he was able.

“Lyra, there is something you must know... about my past...” Iago began. “Fifty-five years ago, I was not known as Iago... I was named Tybalt, son of Yorick, Baron of Danothos... I hated that name, and continue to loathe the man who gave it to me...” Just that little bit, he felt, was quite a bit to take in and thus waited to see how his young friend reacted before continuing.

Lyra blinked from her spot on the bed, concern filling her for her one and only firend. So rescing her had drained him. She opened her mouth to ask if he was alright, that the feet of magic that she had not even dreamed of hadn't drained him to severely....

Siting closer to him she nodded, "I am alright, he didn't really get a chance to harm me.... casued by thy own clumsiness" said with a somewhat bashfull look on her face.

She nodded at his assuance that she wouldn't get in trouble, she trusted him...
"Okay.. " She said quietly.

She blinked curiously again when Iago went to the door and talked to someone, she couldn't help but let out a giggle when he struck whoever it was over the head with his staff... It just looked funny.

Lyra nodded and thanked him again for the Vails, she could always save what was in them for later... No doubt she would need them again.

Lyra listened to what he said after and her eyes widened..

“Lyra, there is something you must know... about my past... Fifty-five years ago, I was not known as Iago... I was named Tybalt, son of Yorick, Baron of Danothos... I hated that name, and continue to loathe the man who gave it to me...”

The Baron was is father? but how was that so? The Baron certainly didn't know... or he hide that he knew rather well. She had so many questions entering her mind she didn't know where to start...

Finally one question found a way through the chaos...

"Why?" she asked in small voice.

Why serve the man if he hated him? Why Assit him with his plans?..
So many questions...

This was so big... yet... She looked at Iago.. he wasn't any different. Only difference was now she knew.

Still feeling quite shocked and overwelmed at this news she took a deep breath and waited for Iago to continue... She hadn't expected this when she woke up early that morning.

Iago eyed his young friend cautiously, wondering how she would take this news. In his mind he felt she should know. She should be made aware of who he was, and what he planned to do. Knowledge was power, after all, and perhaps in some small way Lyra would be able to assist him in his plans. She definitely wasn’t going back to Danothos anytime soon... not until Yorick gasped his last.

The sorcerer was relieved when she didn’t seem outright hostile about learning the truth, then again he already knew she wasn’t really the type to get that angry that openly. Thank Gaia she didn’t look too betrayed... Iago almost wished she’d shouted her monosyllabic question at him rather than in that small and innocent voice. So many questions began with that one little word. Which one did she want to know? Where was he to go from here? Seeing she was quite shocked, Iago took the girl’s hand and looked her straight in the eyes. “When I was five, the Baron ordered his men to steal into my bedchambers and murder me in my sleep, without his wife’s knowledge. With at least four other children before me did he do this. He is a dangerous and power-hungry man, Lyra, and will do anything to keep his power.

“One of his knights, Sir Tobias, spared me from my fate and took me in as his own son. It was he who set me upon a path to overthrow the Baron. After learning what had been done, and what had been attempted, I aspired to achieve this goal for my own after Sir Tobias’s death,” Iago explained. Dark eyes glanced to the door left ajar to see if the seamstress was here yet, only to find the stretch of visible hallway completely empty.

“I am attempting to get close enough to the Baron to do unto him what he has failed, thus far at least, to do unto me...” Iago whispered, just in case there were unseen eavesdroppers. There was quite a bit more to it than that, but he didn’t think Lyra needed to know about all of that aspect just yet. A necromancer’s trade was a rather gruesome one at times...

Lyra listened to Iago as he told his story, the fact the baron killed his own children and tried to kill Iago both shocked and made perfect sense to her… how she could feel both was beyond her. His own sons and daughters he killed? And when they were only children, like her… It made sense to her now.. He wanted revenge, and to stop the Baron from continuing his rein of cruelty unto others… It seemed fitting that the one child he tried to kill was now the very person who could most easily kill him..

The thought of the Baron -finally- dieing… sounded to good to be true. Not that she thought Iago was lying to her, no… Just she had always thought that one day the Baron would get her when Iago wasn’t around to save her and she would meet the same fate her parents had. She had not expected she would have any chance of living to see they day the evil Baron was killed.. Now she had hope that the day might come, and it may come sooner then she ever thought possible.

“Never thought I would live long enough to the day the Baron gasped his last..” she whispered. She had thought about it once or twice.. A bit of poison in his food or drink and it would be done… but she had been afraid.. Afraid of what would happen if she were to be caught.. Cowardly? Maybe….

She then propped her self up on her knees so she wouldn’t look as small or frightened… how successful she was being she didn’t know as she was tiny for her age… childhood as a slave in the Barons castle was hardly a healthy one. She looked more like a girl of 4 or 5 then almost 8 years of age.

“How can I assist the? “ She asked in whisper as he had also been whispering it only made sense she should to. Plus the Baron had done a great injustice to her as well, she to wished revenge… if only a little bit. Also in a way she wished to help him in his quest for the simple reason, she wanted to repay him for his kindness to her for all the years.

“I wish to impart my own justice… and help you in any way I can…” she said trying to give all the reason to let her help. Now that the truth was revealed to her so many paths she could take.

Iago watched her carefully, looking for any sign that this wasn’t going over the way he planned. It was rather a shock, he knew, but none different than the one he received when Sir Tobias had told him approximately the same tale. Yet, despite her youth, her understanding seemed to be that of someone well beyond her years. Remarkable for a child of peasant upbringing was Iago’s precise thought. He was dually glad now that he had befriended the likes of her. Her intelligence should allow her to ascend the social ladder, not remain in the mud left upon one of the lowest wrungs.

The sorcerer smirked at her whispered remark, taking this moment to hesitantly smooth down the girl’s hair in a manner that was strangely fatherly. “Some days, in my own youth and of late, neither did I...” he returned, but did not elaborate further. Iago noticed as Lyra tried to make herself seem taller and perhaps not quite as frightened. The first, perhaps, had some impact even though she still looked incredibly tiny for an eight-year-old girl child. As to the latter, the sorcerer could still see she was rather afraid.

In an effort to help ease her trepidation, Iago rapped his staff once upon the floor and muttered a brief phrase. A moment’s silence later, the music box atop his chest of drawers began to play.

“How can I assist thee? ... I wish to impart my own justice... and help you in any way I can...“

He thought for a moment on that. There were several ways she could be of assistance, but even still there were some risks Iago would rather she not take. The knuckle at the center of his index finger pressed upon his lower lip in thought. “I am not sure yet...” he told her honestly, casually extending the finger that had been on his lip to point at her. “The plans for are still clouded by factors I cannot yet foresee.” Another pause. It would help to have an ally in Alrania that could do a few of the things that would be particularly difficult for him to do while under the Baron’s ever-watchful eye. Yet... Iago wanted the girl to remain safe.

A knock at the door startled Iago, causing him to stand and whirl around from having his back to the door to fully facing it. The cloak around his frame had billowed out slightly before settling back around his form. “Who is it?” the sorcerer shouted irritably.

“Tis Lady Alexandra, palace seamstress, My Lord...” came a pleasant, a-few-notes-shy-of-grandmotherly type of voice.

“Very well, then: Enter,” Iago called back, then turned to Lyra. “We shall have to discuss this in more detail another time...” he muttered jerking his head slightly to indicate he didn’t wish to speak of such things in front of their impending guest.

In strolled the palace seamstress and a few of her assistants, each bearing at least a pair of child-size dresses each. They were all well-dressed in moderately-elaborate gowns and thick fur shawls. “You failed to specify a color or occasion, Milord, so I brought a variety,” explained the seamstress, noticing Iago’s apparent displeasure regarding the quartet of assistants.

Stiffly, Iago nodded. “Apologies, Milady,” he replied, though hardly sounded sincere about the sentiment. A partial eyeroll once the woman turned from him made the artificiality of it all that much more apparent.

The dresses were laid with care on the opposite side of the bed, arranged so that all of the details of each could be seen. Colors varied greatly, some only two-toned but a few had a great mix of colors. Iago’s eyes personally darted to an icy blue dress, a black one, and a dark green one. But the decision was to be Lyra’s, not his. “Select the two dresses you would most like, Lyra,” he encouraged. Knowing the child did not like being the center of attention, the sorcerer placed his hand upon her shoulder and humored the lot of them by examining the dresses with Lyra.

Perhaps there would be one worthy of Elektra’s tastes that he could commission to be made to her measurements...

Lyra stiffened only slightly when Iago smoothed her hair down, unused to any gentle touch now, but she just as quickly relaxed and nodded to him.

She blinked when he muttered a spell and a enchanting music started to play, she closed her eye focusing on the enjoyable sound. For some reason listening to the music and having Iago, the only other person she trusted beside her, she felt better… stronger then she had before. Like the music gave her strength… “I like that music” she whispered, she even felt warmer now.. She then visibly relaxed and she almost smiled as the music ended.

She looked at him in attention as he seemed to think about her offer to assist, surely there must be something she could do, she wanted to be of help…. for once, since she was always seemed to be so much trouble for him… but then again… perhaps he didn’t think she could be of any help, since he was always saving her from the Barons hand…

She lowered her head and nodded at his words, he wasn’t sure what help she could be… she would just have to prove it to him…
“Ah, I understand” she said quietly. Silently vowing to her self she would keep a ear out for anything that might be useful..

At the knock at the door and Iago startled reaction, caused a reaction in her.. Not making a sound at all she swiftly jumped off the bed and crouched down low, ready to fight or hide if she needed to. At the introduction of the lady she lifted her head and crept closer to Iago and nodded to him, knowing he wished to speak privately. She continued keeping a cautious eye on the new comer in the room that Iago seemed to be annoyed with.

She looked in confusion as the lady laid out the small dresses on the bed. She blinked, her eyes wide when Iago told her to pick out the dresses she liked.

“Really?” she asked in a whisper looking at the dresses that look much to expensive or pretty to be on her skinny dirty body. “Umm… I am not sure” she said feeling her heart beating rapidly at the idea of such a gift…

She looked at the dresses for a moment “Umm perhaps the black one and the…..erm the Blue one?” She said unsure for some reason. “ They all look very beautiful….are you sure? I mean I am…” she wasn’t sure she was a slave.. Wasn’t it not right for her to dress above her station?

The corners of Iago’s lips twitched at Lyra’s comment about the melody floating from the music box. “It was my mother’s,” he explained simply and quietly. “The only piece of my old life I allow to linger.” There was a slight melancholy to his words, yet his eyes were soft rather than hardened by grief.

He could feel her eyes eagerly upon him, awaiting any task he could think of in relation to his plans. The sorcerer decided he might need to give her at least something to do in order to keep her from deliberately seeking danger. Whatever that task was, for now, however, Iago had no idea. “Do not lose heart; if it is your wish to impart revenge, I shall attempt to make it so. Gods know we both deserve that at least.”

A nod stiffer than Iago had intended was his reply to Lyra’s whisper. To make up for it, he rested his hand reassuringly upon her shoulder. The sorcerer’s mouth twitched at her uncertainty, knowing that whatever Lyra had expected to wake up to this morning that selecting a rather high-class dress wasn’t one of those things. Daylight was young so Iago didn’t feel the need to rush her at all.

Dark eyes kept lingering back over to the black dress. The sorcerer knew why this was so: it reminded him of Elektra – elegant, beautiful, and mysterious. All words he would by all means use to describe the dress and his Lady. How he longed to be with her once more. Perhaps if she was not busy after Lyra’s dress was fully fitted, Iago would introduce the pair to each other.

Yet, at the same time, Iago worried that bringing a child before the woman he loved would only serve to upset her. Particularly after overhearing how the Royals’ children had had quite a negative impact upon the Duchess. A thought crossed his mind to perhaps consult Ambassador Fersen on the matter; but it was disregarded if only for the sole reason that it may become apparent of the recent ‘scandal’ of a sorcerer of allegedly humble beginnings having relations with a Duchess and former Princess of Caraklein. Both were titles well above his own station in life. While Elektra was willing to forsake everything for him, Iago preferred to be more discrete until he had control of Danothos and therefore a title slightly more worthy in the eyes of those that matter. The sorcerer decided they would simply try it and see what happens..

Iago was torn from his thoughts on how Elektra and Lyra would get along in their first meeting when the latter spoke her uncertain piece about the dresses. He tilted his head curiously when she asked if he was certain. How could he be any more certain? Lyra’s next four words, however, gave Iago some possible insights.

Without even thinking he descended to one knee so that he would be a little closer to the girl’s height, and gently urged Lyra to turn so that he might speak with her face-to-face. “Am what? Adopted?” he questioned with a raise of his eyebrows, then a very brief glance to the seamstress before once again setting his onyx orbs upon Lyra again. “Regardless, you are still my daughter and as such deserve the best I can provide,” he explained, taking the long route in saying he was sure. It would satisfy any curiosities the seamstress would have in the girl’s sudden appearance. And, on another level, Iago was pretty sure he meant every word of the declaration.

’Good Gods, I hope I haven’t sent the girl into a full-fledged state of shock...’ he mused belatedly. Rescued when he was technically leagues away, transported by magic to a new place, being told the truth of his past, and now this... Iago truly could sympathize, but explanations to this latest comment would have to wait.

“Although... I recommend you wash up first before trying them on. Apparently a late-night trip into the crypts was not the best idea on my part,” Iago remarked and cracked what was a hint of a smile to show the remark was well-intentioned. With that said he stood, placed a firm hand upon Lyra’s shoulder, and nodded to the seamstress who proceeded with the help of her assistants to pack up all but the blue and black dresses.

“Are you sure these are the ones you like, dear?” the seamstress asked gently.

Lyra nodded staring slightly at the musical box, wish she had something like that of her late parents, with nothing the remember them by other then her fading memories of their face's, she feared she would for get them one day.

"Melody of Memory" she whispered, casting the song to memory, that now seemed to symbolize Iago in her mind. It head his past, his present, could it symbolize his future as well. Sounds such as these lifted something in her she couldn't explain it..

She turned her attention back to Iago as he promised he would let her particapete in the demise of Baron Yorick, "Very well Master Iago, for now I will try and be content with the fact put jelly in his gloves" She said giving a small smile that was slightly impish.

Lyra tried her best to not feel to small as she looked at the dress, was this really real? this was such a bug leap, from wearing a rag of a dress, to a dress fit for Royalty or someone of the court. Really they all looked amazing, it didn't matter.. all were to fancey for her in her mind.

Then Iago's next few words about her having the dresses caught her completely off guard.

“Am what? Adopted?”

Her mouth dropped slightly and her eyes widened, she was about to question what he meant, surely not Adopted... like she was his daughter.. was there another meaning to that word she didn't know.. However before she could say a word he continued.. as if he had merely reminded her of the fact..

“Regardless, you are still my daughter and as such deserve the best I can provide,”

Lyra wasn't sure if her heart had stopped and she was merely halusinating in her final moments, But now it hadn't stopped quite the opposite, it was beating so hard it hurt, and started to tremble slightly.. not for the cold either.. She wasn't sure what to say.. All of a sudden picking out the dresses didn't seem all that important now. She was not only going to be wearing them, but now she was entitled to wear them... her dark little world seemed to hav been tipped up side down.

She nodded when he said she should clean herself up first.. she still felt like a conteminate in the room.. "Yes sir.." she said quietly.. still not fully sure how to react to the news of her being adoped.. it was so much to accept in one morning.

She nodded to the seamstress, "Yes ma'ma, they are perfect" she said her eyes glancing at Iago.. Suddenly seeing him in a new light out in the opened, no longer master Iago... but father.. she blinked looking down, did he truely mean it?...

She took a deep breath, feeling a bit dizzy now... this was all so incredibe... cursed if she was going to pass out now...