It looks a little like home, if you squint. The castle, that is - rising up above the town. It isn't, of course. It's bigger and grander, and just not the same. The flags the wrong colour, and the parapets are more widly spaced, even the ivy grows differently. But, if I squint...
The town is the same, I guess. Big and noisy and vibrant and colourful and prosperous and not home. We arrived at the harbour by ship, ever since we reached the Golden Circle, we've been letting others follow the shadow pathways for us. The alternative would be uncomfortable, here. We stepped off at the docks, and were swallowed by the crowd. None of them know who I am, and most wouldn't care.
What do they see? Just a noble's son, and his sister - or maybe it's a wealthy merchant and his mistress. Elaine's old enough for it, I suppose - and we don't really look related. Anyway, there we were with a trunk each, and clothes that didn't really fit. Even given how diverse the port is, I'm sure we weren't dressed quite right. That's sorted now, of course - Elaine insisted we bought something more fitting at once, so I guess she felt wrong, too.
They value gold here, so I brought a quantity. Judging by the Legate's expression when I opened the chest to pay for this house, I may have underestimated it's value - still, it's well hidden, so I can't see a problem.
Oh, the house - I bought a small mansion overlooking the sea. The previous owner had lost half his fleet in a storm and was insolvent. Also it reminded me of my Uncle's summerhouse a little. I shouldn't have, I guess - but I hate living out of a trunk. Elaine is with an architect in the other room, talking about renovating the place. From what I hear, she wants the style modern and local - so I guess she's letting go a little more.
I walked around the city for a while, on my own - I'm not quite sure what people made of me. I got my share of sideways glances, but anyone dressed as I was got the same. I know my rapier - every man of distinction seems to wear them here - got a couple of thoughtful stares. Probably men trying to place the style, although I suppose they may have been considering me for a mark. Regardless, they left me alone.
Actually, the strangest thing occurred when listening to the conversation in my wake. It's never been the same, of course - since nobody knows me here - but it's a useful gague of how I appear. One of them said of me 'Another Amberite bastard'. I wonder how they would feel about my being called an Amberite. I wonder how *I* feel about it.
Elaine has just called me through to discuss tapestries for the entrance hall. She, I think, is here to start a new life - I wish I were too. Instead, I'm here to bury an old one.