All of her names and titles took the elderly herald three full minutes to get through. She'd counted the time herself.
The prince on her right leaned closer. "How did he do?" he whispered.
She smiled. "It was a valiant effort but well wide of the mark, I'm afraid. You've discovered why we only use our full names when we're at court. My familiar name is Bemere."
"Alas, that would make me Purvis," the prince said.
"Which is completely impossible to with a straight face," his princess, seated on her other side, added.
The prince leaned forward slightly to look at his wife, a look of fondness and more than a little amusement. In return, the princess gave him a rather saucy wink and pursed her lips in a kiss.
"She's correct, of course. There hasn't been any actual laughter, but I do wonder what grudge my father had against me at such a young age. I go by Cal when no one is around to notice."
"Your Highness, I couldn't possibly be so familiar," Bemere protested.
It was the princess's turn to lean closer. "You are as gracious as you are beautiful," she said quietly. "But neither of us have any illusions about who, or what we are; my father was a commoner knighted on the battlefield, by the old prince in fact. Our little hold is barely the size of a county, let alone a duchy and beyond our House Guards, our army is non-existent. We are little more than simple fishermen."
Bemere smiled. "Simple fisher folk with a fleet that is the envy of All-World. And I'd have to say that the Ten Thousand Islands must lend some extra territory."
"Does it? Sadly, statecraft is beyond a simple wife like myself."
The princess smiled at her, not fooling Bemere for a moment. Whatever her parentage, this human woman had a head for tactics and economics that compared favorably with any of the admiralty from Bemere's homeland. She was a worthy mate for her husband, a man titled as Prince of Waves, if one was inclined to diplomacy. The Prince of Pirates was his usual title, especially in naval circles of the surrounding empires.
"Highness, if I may be so bold, how many ships did your 'commoner' father command?"
The princess laughed, putting a hand on her arm. "You are as astute as you are beautiful. Please do me the honor of using my name, Bemere."
The elf smiled at her. "It's my honor, Madeline."
The princess smiled and turned to answer a question from the noble to her left. She left her hand on Bemere's arm however and the visiting elf was very aware of the warmth through her sleeve. As her husband began the ritual of his court, Madeline's hand stayed where is was, caressing Bemere's arm occasionally.
~~~~
Adelobermerlyn Mayarind had arrived in the Human lands bearing the signet and proofs of an emissary of the Selenic Court. She was a Plenilune, a tribe of Fae known as the Night-Elves or Moon Folk by outsiders.
The Plenilune were the least numerous of the Fae as well as the most secretive. Encountering a Night Elf was uncommon in other Fae holdings, and they took care to remain rumors and legends in the territories of other races.
But, for all of their reclusiveness, the Plenilune were counted among the wealthiest and most influential of the Fae. Secret emissaries like Bemere kept the Selenic Court insulated but very well informed about happenings on the other territories of All World. That's why she had arrived here in the principality of Brynjudalr Sands.
These humans were a bit like the Plenilune, although their elusiveness had more to do with their penchant for "salvaging" merchant vessels from other Human kingdoms, often prior to any actual damage occurring. Their discretion in all other matters made their harbors and towns the most popular places to enter Human territory.
For their part, the noble families of the Sands were delighted with the arrangements. For the occasional cost of supplies or transportation, the nobles were rewarded with the secrets and plans of their competition gathered by the Plenilune agents. So, as other kingdoms grew and declined over the centuries, Brynjudalr Sands remained a stable, prosperous enclave. Bemere was very fond of the Sands and its Human denizens, this was her fourth visit in as many centuries.
On this visit, she noticed that prince's court was far shorter than it had been in the past. It was looking like a very warm summer, so Bermere fully approved. It was far too easy to fall asleep in the smoky and stuffy throne halls Humans preferred. She'd been surprised when the court was ended as well, instead of the usual tedious feast afterward, the Nobles and Commoners alike had simply gotten up and left.
Another, more interesting, observation was that the Princess of Waves had kept her warm hand on Bemere's arm the entire time, occasionally caressing her to emphasize some point or another. These two were turning out to be far more interesting than any of the other Human rulers she'd met over the years.
When the court had emptied of visitors, the Prince stretched and yawned.
"Pardon the delay," he said. "The only problem with a monthly court is that you cannot easily cancel it when other duties arise."
"Duty?" Madeline laughed. "Your manners are somewhat lacking, Cal."
He smiled. "Perhaps I meant duty as a treasured obligation, dearest."
Madeline laughed harder. "Cal, you should stop speaking now."
"By your command," he grinned at her. "Bemere, please excuse all this unseemliness."
"You cannot be unseemly in your own Hall, Highness," Bemere said with a small smile.
"He certainly tries at times. And now I must really insist that you use our names. Or else you shall be styled Her Plenilunic Ladyship and that's far too stuffy in private."
"Of course, Madeline."
"That's far better. Now, let us retreat to less drafty surroundings so that we may speak in confidence."
~~~~
Bemere followed them into the quiet library and into the dimly lit stacks. In one of the dead-end aisles, the prince triggered some hidden mechanism and a door appeared, all traces of it hidden among the details of the ornate paneled wall.
"One of my forebears thoughtfully created a way to get to our quarters without traipsing through the rest of the keep," Cal said.
"Very clever," Bemere said, not mentioning that the passage had been constructed during her second visit, or the fact that one of her extended family had been there to teach the crafters the necessary engineering skills. That kind of thing tended to make Humans uneasy.
After climbing several sets of stairs and navigating narrow corridors, they emerged into a richly appointed sitting room. Cal and Madeline immediately took off their crowns and put them in a cabinet that looked to be elvish manufacture. They sealed the doors with a spoken incantation. Cal went to a sideboard and poured wine while Madeline opened the large doors, letting a cool breeze into the room.
"How long will we have the pleasure of your company?" Madeline asked.
"Not long, I'm heading up into the highlands," Bemere said, smiling and nodding in thanks as Cal handed her a glass of dark red wine. "The Laird of Stone's Edge sent his son against the High Elves last season. The Goldens refuse to acknowledge the incursion, so I'll go find the story from the other side."
