“Still, I do not like this,” Ersal next rose. “The summons is almost worded as if to a vassal, and you are not a vassal of the Elven King.”
“True,” Verice nodded. “I was released from my oaths and allegiance to Valltera before I swore fealty to Palins and Tassinic. King Barathiel has no claim on me.”
“Yet still, he summons you,” Ersal said. “Don’t go, m’lord. Send another in your place. Plead illness, plead necessity, plead the coming Festival. Do not place yourself in his hands.”
“Any excuse given must be legitimate,” Dominic protested. “Lest they discover otherwise and take offense.”
Verice raised an eyebrow. “I am not without my own abilities.”
“True enough, m’lord,” Dominic bowed his head. “But the Royal Court is quick to take offense at any violation of protocol or etiquette. Once there, you must dance to their tune or risk their wrath.”
“Well I remember,” Verice snorted. “My mother ever feared suffering the consequences of my actions.”
That was met with chuckles and nods all around the room.
“It’s not just you, m’lord,” Narthing shifted in his bed. “All of Tassinic goes with you through that portal. Not to mention Lady Warna.”
“Lady Warna is not going,” Verice said.
Warna glanced at Verice, then at Narthing.
“M’lord, I hesitate to say this,” one of the older maels spoke slowly. “But she is included in the invitation. Her presence will be expected and—”
“No,” Verice said. He stood there, considering, his arms crossed over his chest. “Everything you’ve said to me is true, and I understand your concerns. What we need is information, and its better if it’s exchanged face-to-face. King Barathiel can be difficult, but he is honorable. I have no reason to believe this is other than an exchange of information. I will go. Warna will remain here.”
“Is that a command?” Warna asked.
“What?” Verice stopped, stunned. “Of course it’s a command.”
“Why?” Warna asked. “My name is on the invitation. Isn’t it my choice?”
The room went silent.
Verice glared. “It’s not safe.”
“If it’s not safe for me, how is it safe for you?” she countered. “And if I do not appear at your side, that could be offensive, correct?”
Heads nodded in agreement around the room, but Verice had a counter. “You’ve not the wardrobe to visit the Royal Court,” he said.
“I’m in mourning,” Warna replied. “Plain garments are expected.”
“Which excuses her from any formal parities, and those intricate dances,” Janella piped up from a corner.
“The fact that they’ve pulled a young woman from her home during a time of mourning will not be viewed favorably,” Pernard said with a helpful tone.
“She does not know elven ways, or proper behavior,” Verice snapped. “You’ll cause more problems than—”
“Speak only in response,” Warna threw his weaponsmaster’s words back in his face. “Answer, but never ask. And never make the first move.”
“That will serve,” Narthing chuckled.
Verice shot him a glare. “She doesn’t speak elvish.” he said.
“Please,” Dominic spoke up from his corner. “That’s a simple spell for you, one that allows her to speak and understand. And a decision must be made quickly. My patient needs his rest.”
“I’m fine,” Narthing protested.
“Bowel ruptures,” Dominic said.
