houseofcards_rp | It's Swing Time~

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out Elisha's motivation for organizing - or, honestly, delegating the organization of - a semi-formal dance party. Lucinda had suggested a ball, with stars in her eyes. She probably had already picked out ballgowns and themes in her head when Elisha had nixed the thing and - in a moment of desperation, with the memory of the swing-themed Fox wedding still in his head - suggest a Spring Swing, instead.

Everyone had run with it, and Elisha was pleased to say it had come out well. He was even more pleased to say that he didn't have to wear a suit, even if he stepped out into the lantern-lit gardens in everything but the tie. He paused near the raised dais provided for dancing and gave the small band the signal to start up the music before he attempted to fade back in the crowd. Not that that ever worked.

"Let the games begin," he murmured to no one in particular as he picked up a glass of champagne off a tray.

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"You're a flatterer, Ivona." Though the liaison thing was worth considering, he thought; not to one of the other Suits, because that's increasingly seemed useless, given that the Royals all tend to cut out the middle man and talk to each other.

He finished off his bourbon and signaled for another, his lips tightening into a rather perturbed sort of expression before he shrugged. "I don't know," he said, "which is a good part of the problem, so to speak."

The former she waved off with a smile, then sat back and tapped her nails on the counter, nonplussed.

"Ah. Yes, I can see how that might be an issue. Hm." She drummed her fingers for a moment, eventually suggesting, "What of the medical field? Or the finance department?" Well, probably not finance, all things considered.

"Teaching, perhaps? Or something in business, maybe?"

They were all good suggestions, really. Ivona knew his strengths and weaknesses well, after all, and there were parts of him that would enjoy all those things.

Teach what, though, was the question. A question for later, at least.

"Finance strikes me as an idea that would get me quickly murdered," he said dryly. "Mrs. Fox is very possessive of her department, I think."

He took another drink and sighed. "The problem," he said, "is I always wanted to be King."

"Mm, she is, I gather. Hmm." Ivona sat back, considering, but then her eyebrows shot up at Jordan's confession.

"King? King of...Spades? Hearts? Or just King in general?"

This was certainly interesting.

Oh, to give the expected answer or the honest one. Jordan was silent for a moment, touching his finger to his temple before giving Ivona a sidelong look.

"King of Spades," he said. "Though Hearts is what mother intended."

Still, he won't challenge his cousin, so it's likely an ambition that's dead in the water.

Well, it was understandable; Jordan did always seem to have deep ambition, at least in her view. That family was known for reaching high, all around. Also, apparently, indecisiveness.

"So why not work for it, then?" Not that she had anything against her former lover in the position, but ambition and challenge was how the Spades operated. "If it's what you truly want."

He's not generally all that indecisive. It's been a relatively new development. But then again, so much of his life was driven by Laureline - so it might be more accurate to say he's never had that much decision-making to do.

He looks over at her with a raised eyebrow. "I do actually like my cousin," he said. "At least enough to not necessarily want to strike him down from it." Though, that would certainly be unexpected.

One of Ivona's eyebrows went up.

"What does family feeling have to do with professional ability? It shouldn't matter a whit whether or not the current King is your cousin or not, Jordan. If you believe him unfit for the job, and you feel you could provide better service, then Challenge him for it."

She finished off her drink and slid the empty glass aside.

"It's as simple as that, love."

"I don't believe him unfit," Jordan said, and flicked Ivona a look over the edge of his glass. "Do you think he is?"

Despite his words, this was planting a seed he wouldn't have considered a few months ago. If he wanted to be King, why not? It wasn't going to happen tomorrow. He had three ranks before he became a Ten.

He might want to work in something more visible than archives, though.

"To be honest," and she was, ironically, "I can't say for sure. I haven't been on-Deck long enough to produce a valid opinion." She paused a moment, considering.

"I will say, however, that from what I do know of Clive, he's not nearly as ruthless as he perhaps should be, given his new job. In point of fact, he has the worst habit of backing away from tough situations."

"He is from the nice side of the family." More of a Kelly in some ways, Jordan thought, than a Bernard. He imagined that if Laureline hadn't decamped to the Hearts, he might have been the one betrothed to Ivona Wolf.

Which was an odd thought, really.

"I wonder if there have been any tough situations so far..." He really, he thought, needed to get his ear closer to the ground. He'd been slacking.

"A handicap, in our Suit, darling," Ivona pointed out crisply. "Regardless of this 'new image' our Royals seem to be advocating, Spades will be Spades, in the end. History speaks for itself, really."

Requesting a simple glass of ice water, Ivona shrugged lightly. "I haven't heard of any warranting notice. Things have been unusually quiet, these past few weeks. Pleasant, if a touch suspicious."

"Image is just that. Image." Very rarely had much to do with what was underneath, and he doubted that Katya was really particularly kind and gentle.

He finished off his bourbon and tapped a finger against his glass, his eyes narrowed in a way that bespoke trouble. "Nothing particularly odd, no," he said. "But that in itself is odd."

Ivona did have her doubts. She knew Clive Kelly very well, after all. But Katya--well, their Queen did have her secrets, everyone knew. Time would tell. And only the survivors would write the histories, as the saying went.

"Anticipating something dire to come roaring out of the woods, love?" she gently teased, tapping a perfect fingernail against the back of his hand. "While I grant the lack of catastrophe around here is a bit disconcerting, I've resolved to simply enjoy the breather. Heaven knows there will be time enough for panic and crisis later."

She gave Jordan a knowing look. "Translation, Sir Novak: Seize the night." A giggle. "And whatever else you can reach."

It's Swing Time~

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