Kingsley Family/Alyssa/Lighting the Shadows
Contents
Dixon
Krimml.
Sean Dixon goes about the city as Tormentor and spots a familiar entourage of a Golden Lion. Could that be Her Majesty, Queen Alyssa Kingsley of Perdan?
He recalls clearly that afternoon tea some time ago, when she had a conversation with him about her fierce determination to protect everyone in her realm. Then she had brought Sean to see the mounds of graves of peasants killed in war and looting.
He wondered, could she really be here? And why?
Dubhaine
“No time for lessons today dear,” the Queen’s mother Erfrayj came bustling into Etain’s private study as she was preparing her satchel for her early morning seminar, “The city is abuzz with news that Queen Alyssa’s standards can be seen from the Oligarch Gate so you’d best send your apologies to your tutor and make yourself ready to entertain.”
Princess Efrayj lacked the ruthless arrogance of her Serpentis father, her temper a throwback to the matrons of forested Glinmar, a land where the Elven folk had dwelt carefree until The Powers lay their Ban upon elfhame. Where once the elegant, chiseled features of Elven royalty had seemed at odds with her maternal fussing, the softer cast of now mortal flesh with its gentle curves and sense of weight seemed very much to suit Erfrayj and perhaps hinted at the unlikely attraction which had drawn her and Etain’s father Naevan together in the first place. The contrast with her sister Anagridh couldn’t have been more pronounced.
”I know Mother, Tormentor Sean sent word half an hour ago,” the room was dominated by a massive desk of polished chestnut oak, strewn with scrolls and codices above which Etain currently hovered, deciding whether to pack her heavily annotated copy of Stark’s On the Life of Basilius Decimus. Her class were studying the lead up to the Fontan Civil War and Stark was considered one of the better sources on the period, though as with all hagiographers he needed to be taken with a generous pinch of salt where his pet peeves were concerned.
Etain had met the waspish Stark just the once. That had been during her grandmother Brigdha’s tenure as Rector at the Grey University in Karbala. Grandmother used to host weekly soirees where the prospect of free wine and a generous buffet encouraged members of the faculty who might otherwise have remained in their cloistered chambers to instead mingle and share their insights with colleagues from other colleges. Meanwhile the wealthier burghers whose gold might assist their researches bathed in their reflected glory. He was a strange little man. Acid-tongued and clearly not of the marrying sort, a champion of the kind of radical politics once popular in Fontan, yet witty and personable. It had been clear Brigdha liked the man even if their relationship seemed to consist mostly of arguing over obscure political points entirely lost on those around them.
Looking at her satchel Etain realised the codex wouldn’t fit without removing several other smaller volumes she definitely needed, so she set it aside with a wistful sigh.
”Look, Mother. Be still.” the Queen looked up from the heavy oak table, “You’ve been fussing over Queen Alyssa’s visit for days and I doubt there’s anything left to prepare.”
”You’re Shadow Queen dear, whether you like it or not that necessitates formalities.”
“Look, I don’t have time for this now or I’ll be late for class,” Etain grabbed her satchel and hurried towards the door, stopping only briefly to kiss her mother on the cheek, “I’ll be back mid-morning and then you can organise me to your heart’s content.”
Dubhaine
"Your mother is clucking again," Anagridh remarked coolly as they walked arm-in-arm across the palace courtyard, the last undiluted vestige of the ancient Elven nobility towering head and shoulders above even her niece. It was true. To their left two lines of hardened warriors from Etain's personal bodyguard stood sheepishly at attention, minutely inspected and fussed over by the Queen's mother.
"Are you surprised aunt?" when Etain had arrived home she'd barely had time for a light snack and a bath before being shoehorned into a dress and gown befitting her rank, "My whole life she's been chiding me to be more ladylike and I always used to jokingly remind her I was but a commoner. A technicality I rather miss. This so to speak is my hen coming home to roost."
"No," Anagridh issued an uncharacteristic sigh, though her demeanour remained otherwise unchanged, "I'm not surprised in the least."
She'd been kicking her heels in Krimml for months now, deprived of both war and intrigue since Queen Brigdha retired to her mountaintop hermitage. And with so much time on her hands she was finally facing up to The Catastrophe and her own rather unique place in this changed world. To a casual observer she was still the cold, ruthless killer who decades before had terrified the men of the Southern Alliance, her slender feathered shafts a byword for the inevitability of death. Yet of late she'd recognised a strange longing building deep within her thoughts. A need for companionship, and perhaps more. Was the Ban working its subtle evil upon her at last? Would she be reduced to nought more than a shadow of her former self? Or was the parting gift of Eluné changing her in other ways, more subtle and yet perhaps more perilous?
"Etti! Etti!" her reverie was broken by young Miss Peregrine who was waving to them from the window of her carriage as it drew up in the courtyard, "I'm not too late am I?"
"No Perry, you're not too late. The Queen's party has yet to arrive," Etain let go of her aunt's arm and extended both hands to receive her friend, at first locking hands as they each admired the other's dress, and then wrapping their arms around each other as they hugged, "You look adorable!"
"Why thank you Your Majesty," Perry curtsied as best her crinolined frock would allow. It was all the fashion, nearly as wide at the hips as her carriage door, accentuating her wasp-like corseted waist, "But I cannot hold a candle to the Queen of Shadows."
"Mistress Peregrine," Anagridh loomed.
"Princess," the girl curtseyed again, as ever feeling somewhat exposed beneath that inscrutable Elven gaze.
The courtyard was starting to fill as other members of the nobility and the city elite began to gather. This was turning into the kind of formal affair Etain had been so keen to avoid but perhaps that had always been inevitable...
Kingsley
The Queen felt a quiet stillness as her party was escorted through the streets of Krimml towards the palace where she was to meet her Shadowdhavian counterpart. The day was a bit overcast and though the people of the city had gathered at their windows and in streets and alleys to see the rare sights of both Perdanians and a foreign ruler, they appeared hushed and quiet as they watched them, the clops of the Queens' horses echoing through the cobblestone streets.
It was unusual.
Typically, excitement filled the air upon a royal visit, but not so today. She felt no hostility from the assembled crowds, but neither did they seem enthused that the Queen of Perdan was riding through the capital. An insular, enigmatic and suspicious people. King Kay had always told her. Looking at them now she was not entirely sure how true that was. She supposed they seemed... curious more than anything. It was after all unusual for Perdanians to visit Shadowdale at all, much less the Queen of the Lions.
They winded through the streets of Krimml, their journey a surprisingly webbed and complex route of angled turns and twisty streets. The city was not large, but Alyssa got the impression that there was a grander design to the city's layout than was apparent. Something just beyond sight, in the shadows.
It was as they approached the palace near the city center that her eyes met with another man, this one much more familiar. Dubhaine household guards led her, Isana, and their company into the palace courtyard, as Alyssa met the gaze of Sean Dixon watching out at her from a balcony nearby. He seemed surprised to see her, though she was well aware of his presence in this country and the legacy he had left in the South. Blood of Eponllyn, she mused to herself. You are my newest tragedy. She looked at him coolly, her expression blank, granting no clue to the disappointment she felt in the both of them.
And then her party crossed out of sight and into the courtyard.
When they had arrived in the palace courtyard, she glanced over at Isana, catching her eye as they both moved to dismount swiftly to gallantly rush to help the other off her horse. Isana gave her a charming smirk which was a pause enough for Alyssa to swing her leg over the saddle, her riding boots firmly landing on the courtyard grounds. Isana scrunched her nose in playful resignation as Alyssa held her hand out with a tiny, quick, victorious smile.
Isana took it, leaning a little weight on Alyssa as she deftly stepped down out of the saddle, clearly not in need of help, though that she kept her hand in Alyssa's as the staff led their horses to the stables felt clear that it was welcome the same.
Alyssa's brief affectionate smile at Isana settled into her more typical demeanor and several figures emerged into the courtyard. The chamberlain, and a few other important looking Shadowdale officials met them with a respectful bow.
"Your Majesty, Your Majesty." The chamberlain said first to Alyssa and then to Isana. "Welcome to Krimml. I'm afraid the Queen is finishing her academic studies this morning and is not available to meet for a few hours more. We have chambers prepared for you of course in the meantime."
"Thank you." Alyssa said with a nod. "We shall meet with the Shadow Queen when she is ready."
Dubhaine
An elegant marquee had been erected in the palace grounds and servants were putting the finishing touches to spacious tables with fine porcelain and silver cutlery.
Whilst the city was best known for her Meat Pastries, a noble delicacy which dominated her export trade, the bakers of Krimml were masters of sugar and sponge, and of meats both sweet and savoury. Their craft had been given pride of place, each of the tables adorned with a centrepiece featuring vignettes from Krimml’s history, tales of Coimbra and Fontan and Shadowdale played out with a subtle marriage of visual splendour and culinary perfection.
Meanwhile in the adjacent courtyard waiter staff in impeccable white aprons and smart black livery wound their way amongst the guests with trays of long-stemmed crystal flutes, offering crisp wines from the northern plains and the heavier, sweeter reds of the eastern coasts. Others bore small plates of canapés, savoury appetisers made with wild mushrooms and cheese and sweet peppers. The lively hubbub of polite conversation overlaid a backdrop of traditional melodies performed by a chamber quartet with stringed instruments and a harpsichord, an instrument which was currently all the fashion.
”This is very different to the informal lunch I’d imagined,” Etain and her brother Leopald stood a distance apart from the Queen’s Guests.
“You can’t blame Mother for making an effort. It’s so rare she gets to entertain since Father passed. And it is a wonder that she organised all this so swiftly.”
A wonder indeed.
- * *
A gentle knock on the apartment door preceded it’s opening, admitting a smartly dressed elderly woman. Her bearing bespoke an old soldier, back ramrod straight and head held high, and her face had a stern cast to it, softened only by the gentlest kind eyes. A cluster of iron keys hung from a ring chained to her girdle, the mark of her office as Chatelaine of the Royal Household.
”Your Majesties,” she curtsied without skipping a beat, head inclining as she dipped and rising again as she herself rose, ”Her Majesty Shadow Queen Etain awaits your convenience in the palace courtyard where drinks are being served, followed by a light luncheon. She regrets that formal attire is probably the best choice although as guests of honour that is entirely up to you.”
- * *
“So what news have you gathered in the East,” Etain turned to the business of the moment.
”As you feared the zealots in Karbala have wormed their way deep into the city administration. It’s a powder keg - ready to explode at the slightest spark,” Leopald’s usual cheery nature was subdued, ”Duke Marchusson will need all the help you can provide if he’s to root out the ringleaders.”
”I knew this day would come,” Etain sipped her wine, “But Grandmother was never willing to tackle the problem head on.”
”To be fair she had more pressing concerns to deal with,” there was a finality in Leopald’s voice which reminded the Queen she had often been an outsider to what passed between grandame and grandson. Leo had been the one who organised Brigdha’s security, a role with a wide latitude of action, and he’d been deep in her confidence for decades. Etain on the other hand had been off adventuring, learning the skills which admittedly now qualified her to be the Dubhaine Matriarch but which left her woefully uninformed where the deepest secrets of the Shadow Throne were concerned. Secrets of which even certain Shadow Kings had been kept in the dark…
”I sometimes forget how much she confided in you,” the Queen’s lips curled into a conspiratorial smile, “and probably still does.”
”Someone has to guard her back,” he looked somewhat sheepish, caught between the possibility of causing insult to his sister and the intense loyalty he felt to the Éminence Grise of Shadowdale.
”Well I’m glad that somebody is you Brother as these are dangerous times.”
”Perry seems to be enjoying herself,” Leo changed the subject. The Queen’s young companion was laughing and joking with a circle of eligible young bachelors, her marital prospects greatly improved now that she was a Lady-in-Waiting to the Queen.
”I fear I’ve created something of a monster,” Etain laughed, and the royal siblings were soon lost in lighthearted talk of court life and the scandals of the day. There’d be time enough later for the serious business they must now embark upon if Shadowdale was to be freed from the influence of the traitor Edmund.
Kingsley
Verall
Dame Kira watched over the gathered nobles and the staff hustling around to serve them. A few of the Perdanians had already arrived and were cautiously mingling with their hosts. Queen Alyssa's diplomatic corps naturally took after their ruler's methodical nature, but with this event being the first contact most of the Perdanese delegation had with Shadowdale, she could tell that many of them were particularly on their guard. Kira herself, as the knight chiefly responsible for the Queen's security was no exception. She watched over the little crowd mingling in the courtyard. 5, 6 and 7... 8. Whiteguards were present. Plenty to protect the Queen from any sudden threats to her immediate person.
Her compatriot Sir Julian was speaking animatedly and laughing freely at the jokes of one of the Shadowdhavian ministers. Julian had always been her opposite in many ways, though they had joined the Queen's personal guard at the same time. She was glad at least someone felt comfortable. In formal dress instead of the heavy plate armour she would normally be wearing while in the Queen's service, Kira felt vulnerable.
Still, the Queen put her trust in these people, and she trusted Alyssa. The transitive property did not make her feel any less uneasy as she once again scanned the grounds for anything out of the ordinary.
Her eyes fell on Queen Etain, and Kira watched the young ruler carefully. Kira was not what she expected from the ruler of Shadowdale. She spoke lightly and laughed easily, not giving off in the slightest the air of mystery and subtlety that she had imagined Shadowdale would be. It came to her at once that such charm could very well be a web of its own. She was no diplomat, but Queen Etain, she imagined, was likely more than she seemed. Still, Kira's faith in her Queen was unshakeable, Alyssa did not need her help in the diplomatic sphere, but her protection... Kira would see to that.
And her mission began in earnest as her Queen stepped out from one of the corridors into the courtyard. Flanked by three of Kira's fellow Whiteguards, the Queen stood tall and regal. She dressed handsomely, the Grand Crown of Perdan lay atop beautiful golden locks tied into a simple chignon glimmering in the sunlight. She wore a naturally-fitted white doublet, elegantly embroidered in intricate gold designs. Finely tailored black trousers made regal with a stripe of gold down either side were topped with the golden sash tied around her waist. Over her shoulders a royal cape of Everlight green fell to her hips and was clasped with a golden brooch depicting a wolf's head. Unlike the rest of the Queen's adornments, this piece looked a bit older, it was not tarnished but its glimmer was just slightly less than the rest, showing its age. Kira watched Alyssa's eyes, the icy blue of her irises shimmering splendidly.
Kira's eyes locked onto Alyssa the moment she stepped through into the courtyard. Her heart sped up as her charge made her entrance. My watch begins. Kira thought Announced by the herald, Alyssa Kingsley stepped into the courtyard, and all eyes turned on her. At her arm was Isana and the pair of them stepped regally through the courtyard exchanging greetings with Queen Etain as they were shown to her table. The knights stood back far enough to be out of the way, but kept their eyes on the Queen, one of them looking away just long enough to give a single nod to Kira.
Kingsley
Alyssa had been a bit disappointed by the formality of the event, as she was hoping for a more relaxing and private meeting, but she understood the importance of the event as Shadowdale and Perdan had not met formally in some time. The crowd was not large, but was more than she had anticipated, and between that, the necessity of the extensive and intricate graces of diplomatic conduct, and the heavy weighted crown she wore meant she would likely be exhausted by the end.
The food at the very least, looked quite appetizing and the music was lightly and lovely. With the formal greetings offered between the two rulers, they were offered seats near the Queen by the staff. Alyssa put her hand in Isana's and turned her attention to the Queen of Shadowdale.
"Thank you, Queen Etain," Alyssa said gracefully, "for putting this together for us. Your hospitality means a great deal to us, especially on such short notice. You have honoured us and the people of Perdan."
Though the stoic visage she wore so typically may not have expressed much, she was indeed truly impressed and humbled by the swiftness which such an event was successfully put together on behalf of her, Isana, and the rest of the Perdan delegation. Perhaps a true friendship shall be forged. She hoped so.
Dubhaine
“I’m gratified the arrangements are to your taste Queen Alyssa,” Etain raised her glass to honour a seemingly middle-aged woman seated across the table, “though the credit properly belongs to my mother and the craftsmen who have laboured at her behest these past days.”
“You’ve surpassed yourself sister,” an imposing Elven woman dressed in red samite whispered to her neighbour and a becoming blush momentarily threatened to flush the woman’s cheeks but in spite of this she maintained her composure.
“Your Majesty is too kind,” she nodded her head towards her daughter.
”Credit where credit is due Princess Erfrayj,” Etain stood, clearing her throat to catch the attention of the gathered assembly, “A toast to Princess Erfrayj, my much beloved Mother whose work behind the scenes we today have the pleasure of enjoying. To the Queen’s Mother!”
“To the Queen’s Mother!” the refrain was echoed from all corners of the Marquee, accompanied by the clinking of crystal against crystal and appreciative cries of “Huzzahh!”.
Etain settled back into her chair, eyeing the selection of sweet and savoury pastries arranged on heated platters. Pages circled the tables with jugs of wine and tureens of delicate game consommé, rich with the flavours of the surrounding forests. There was ample to satisfy the heartiest appetite, but not so much as to overwhelm those of more modest tastes. Such as the Queen herself who left to her own inclinations was content with freshly baked bread and a platter of cold cuts.
“So tell me my dears, how did you enjoy your visit to Sirion?” Etain’s tone was friendly yet attentive, as of one eager to learn of foreign climes. In truth she hadn’t dared visit the land of her birth since The Catastrophe save on essential business. How could she? To walk amongst the ruins of her mother’s ancestors? To hear the doggeral which now passed for speech where once the tongue of Elfhame was spoken? And yet the longing for the northern forests where she’d first learned to hunt lay heavy on her heart…
- * *
Amongst the pages attending to the Queen’s guests was a waif-like girl of perhaps no more than fifteen summers, skinnier than her peers and seemingly too frail for the heavy water pitcher balanced against her hip. Over the course of the afternoon she visited each table more than once, refreshing cups and finger bowls, always smiling and with a pleasant word for those who needed it.
A careful observer would have noticed that the pitcher never seemed to empty nor did the girl ever tire - if only that careful observer could have kept track of her. For whenever an eye would curiously alight upon her or a gaze linger a moment longer than desired some distraction would catch its attention and the girl would have moved on leaving little more than a vague memory behind her.
- * *
”Dame Kira if I’m not mistaken?” Leopald introduced himself to Queen Alyssa’s shadow with a firm handshake and the ready ease of a fellow soldier, “Captain Leopald, Queen Etain’s brother and Head of Security.”
Kira seemed somewhat surprised to find herself in conversation. Was this a deliberate distraction? Her hand unconsciously settled on the hilt of her dress sword, a somewhat less robust weapon than she was used to. Her eye unconsciously counted the Whiteguard and the Everlights, reassured that if this were a trap they could swiftly form a protective ring about her Mistress and her consort.
”Have we met?” there was a bluntness to her tone.
”Not that you would remember,” he answered, “But yes, some years ago in Perdan. I used to frequent the Bloody Stump with my grandmother.”
Kira eyed him for a long moment, “That’s an unusual establishment for a grandmother to visit.”
”She’s an unusual grandmother, but I’m sure you already know that.”
”Ambassador Brigdha,” Kira knew the name by reputation, though that reputation was mostly one of unsubstantiated rumours. Myths seemed to attach themselves to certain nobles if they lived long enough, and Queen Brigdha was said to have lived so very long.
”Indeed, Ambassador Brigdha, our former Shadow Queen.”
”I take it you were her Head of Security as well?”
”More her errand boy if I’m being honest,” he smiled as if remembering a private joke, “And have you been in Queen Alyssa’s service a long time?”
Kingsley
--Verall--
"Yes." Kira answered flatly, taking her eyes away from the person in front of her to find their way to Alyssa. She was smiling, but it was not her true smile. Her true and genuine smile was extraordinarily rare. That smile was small and gentle, the subtlety of happiness directed by a sparkle in the melting of her frosty blue eyes. It normally flitted away as quickly as it came, unless the Queen was particularly pleased.
This smile was worn and Kira could tell, slightly forced. It was unlikely the Queen wasn't enjoying herself and just putting on a pleasant facade. It was just not her manner to brighten easily. Despite her position, Alyssa was a soldier first and foremost, and had seen far too much to She had seen the Queen be given both remarkable and joyous news and seen the same expression in response. She had watched over Alyssa at many parties and social gatherings just like this one, and almost never saw a naturally borne grin.
Kira's eyes turned back to the man in front of her, who claimed he knew her, though she could not recall. She briefly wondered if he truly had met her before, or if there was a stack of parchment with her name scribbled on it, details of her life, motivations. She wondered who among the capital courtiers might be able to be responsible for such a dossier. Lord Davenport most likely... She shook her head, a little frustrated from her own lack of focus.
"Queen Alyssa knighted me after the liberation of my homeland in Bescanon from the Redwings. I have served her ever since. I was one of the founding of her Royal Whiteguards upon her ascent."
She hoped that answer would satisfy him. It was more than he asked for anyway. She glanced back over at Alyssa.
--Kingsley--
"Our visit was quite remarkable." Alyssa said with a diplomatic smile. She sat with her back straight, in formal posture as if at attention. "We are very fortunate. Very few of our people have ever set foot in the Republic, let alone been invited. However, we were well received, exchanged gifts, and furthered dialogue." Alyssa nodded intently, her voice pulling away her smile as she spoke with purpose, and from her heart.
"Sirion and Perdan as anything other than hostile towards each other is a rather unusual development for the Continent, but the world is not doomed to repeat the cycles of the past. We are not our ancestors. Perhaps they could not forgive one another. But I am here now. And my people and I can make a different choice. So we have. I am pleased that Sirion has made that choice as well."
She could see that a few others at the table were watching her as she spoke. She took a sip of the wine and turned her attentions back to Queen Etain. Her mind could not help but flicker to the conflict in the South, which had occupied so much of her time and attention of late.
"It is one that we can all make, if we choose to. Such is my dream."
She did not want to comment any more than that, as it had little to do with Shadowdale. Given the tense situation Shadowdale now found itself wedged between, she knew they likely had more than enough problems to deal with. Alyssa considered her "Sister in Sovereignty". She was young and seemed bright, though somehow familiar with the expectations and trappings of royalty. She seemed a piece that fit perfectly within the role
How different their lives must have been. Etain, a scion of one of the most renowned houses in all of the Continent. Raised in the courts and among whispered plots and courtly graces. University classes.
Alyssa herself... her aunt and uncle had owned little more than a few dozen acres and a small tower in the borderwood. A life of unimport until she was of age to be thrown into the hellfires. She thought of all the mistakes and misteps she had made over the years. The pain and suffering she endured. So our fight truly was for more than just our survival.
That was a comforting thought. Etain surely had her own difficulties to deal with, but she would not have endured what Alyssa herself did, it was a good sign. As she considered her counterpart, she wondered to herself what troubles she had indeed faced. Who are you, Sister?
Dubhaine
Roleplay from Etain Dubhaine Player experience level: mentor Player play preference: rp-combat (Personal message to Alyssa Kingsley) - 1 day, 5 hours ago -- Verall --
"I've heard good report of the Whiteguards," Leo's tone was matter-of-fact, neither impressed by the silent figures of Queen Alyssa's bodyguard nor dismissive of their reputation, "handy lads in a melee by all accounts."
Kira turned her attention back to him, feeling oddly irked by his appraisal. Of course they were handy lads in a melee. Why else would they be the Queen's Guards? Was he hinting at something?
At first she'd taken him for a courtier, or perhaps a staff officer. The kind whose position had more to do with their political connections rather than their capabilities. Yet there was definitely something odd about him. The thought of carefully compiled dossiers flitted through her mind again as she studied him more closely. His uniform was dark grey with very few adornments beyond two colourful rows of medal ribbons and what she gathered were his rank insignia at the collar. No regimental or company badge, no House insignia, nothing else in fact that indicated any particular connection, military or otherwise. Nor was she well versed in Shadowdale's decorations, something she would have checked beforehand had her Queen's visit been planned further in advance.
Were these the colours men acquired for long but undistinguished service? Unlikely at his young age. Or were they awards for bravery and daring, the tale of campaigns won and lost? He didn't look old enough to have seen much action, perhaps no older than his sister in fact, but he held himself like a veteran and there were the hint of long-healed scars on his hands. Faint traces, weathered to a silvered skein.
"I take it Captain is an honorary rank?" she ventured.
"Only of militia I'm afraid. Just a pen-pushing civil servant really," Leopald waved his glass towards a passing serving girl who refilled it promptly, "making sure the real soldiers get the support they need when they need it."
-- Kingsley --
Choices. Always choices. Etain had made her fair share of those over the years, "dark times call for fell deeds my dear" as her grandmother was wont to console her, "The Queen commands and we obey, o'er the hills and far away..." she'd never imagined that mantle would fall on her shoulders when as a small child she'd watch the Spider Queen holding court from the shadows of the minstrel's gallery. Nor later when about The Shadow Throne's secret business, heart pounding and cold sweat as she hunted in the sunless places.
"And what do you say to that Aunt," all heads turned to Princess Anagridh, the Elven noblewoman's spoon poised above her soup like a hawk upon the thermals, keen eyes waiting for their prey to break cover. In response she turned her unearthly violet eyes on the Queen of Perdan, studying her thoughtfully.
"Er maur tário. Tário ól-na-exë, auve ana atani, vá-cólima, ana atani ola thory'ossë," the sounds lingered, as if the air itself were reluctant to challenge the tongue of the ancient north.
"One Queen's dream might not suit all," Etain translated liberally as it became clear Anagridh was in no mood to explain further, forgoing as she did so the characteristic fatalism of the poem from which it was drawn. Brightening as was her inclination, Etain stood, tapping a pastry fork gently against her glass until the room was quieted and all eyes turned towards her.
"Dear Gentlefolk, Good Knights of Shadowdale and Perdan, raise your glasses please for our most noble and sovereign guests, Queen Alyssa and Queen Isana."
"To the Health of Queen Alyssa! To the Health of Queen Isana!" came a mildly discordant chorus of voices from the collected throng.
"My Sister in Sovereignty arrived as our neighbour, weary from a long journey and eager for good cheer before the arduous mountain crossing which lies before her. When she leaves it will be as our friend."
Only Anagridh seemed uninfected by the general air of jollity, those ageless eyes which had watched years unnumbered pass into memory revealing nothing of the complex thoughts which dwelt within. Did she bear ill will to the heirs of Atanamir, the traitor general who brought armies to butcher where fair Eluné once danced? Or were her thoughts of earlier wars? Of the great victories of her sire Erik? Or the fall of Coimbra and seeds sewn of the Great Wars?
