The next morning, Bemere was in the royal household's stables looking over the horses on offer. The stable master had begun with the largest of the war horses, but after a single glance at the massive hot-bloods, she asked to see something a little less...interesting. She described the journey she needed to make to the stable master, stressing that she didn't want to attract more attention than necessary. He tapped his chin for a moment and then led her to another stable.
This line of stalls was full of much quieter animals and he explained that these were the horses normally reserved for the principality's messengers. After some discussion about saddles and the like, she ended up with a pair of mares, one roan, and the other grey, both familiar with the climb over the landward pass. He'd wanted her to look at the pack horses as well, but Bemere's luggage wasn't nearly extensive enough. Thanking the man with a three coin tip, Bemere took her leave and climbed the flights of stairs, up to the keep's highest tower.
There were always watchers stationed there; a recruit and an older veteran, judging by the scars and missing arm. The older man was evidently accustomed to, or unimpressed by, high ranking visitors and welcomed her with a simple nod. The youth leaped from his chair and stood at quivering attention. The older guard chuckled and told him to sit back down.
She chatted for a moment before climbing the ladder to the large reflector mounted at the very top. She was just as impressed with the view as she'd been back when she'd helped design the signaling system. That had been for the previous prince, Cal's great uncle.
The clouds rushing in from seaward looked to be slowing down as they were blown over the Thunder Haven mountains. Far inland, at the top of the pass, the Gateman's Notch was still hidden by haze. She stared at the clouds for a long time, seeing hints of the otherwise unseen torrents of wind in their constantly shifting patterns.
Bemere frowned and took an oddly twisted piece of glass with a rainbow sheened fluid from the bag on her shoulder. She placed it carefully on a flat spot on the reflector, before removing two small stoppers. The colorful liquid swirled chaotically for a few moments, then slowly separated into complex bands of color. She studied the patterns carefully before replacing the stoppers.
"Anything to worry about?" the older of the pair asked, as Bemere packed the apparatus away again.
"The skies will clear tonight," she said. "A day or two of warm sun before the next cycle of storms arrive."
He thanked her and Bemere headed back down, pretending not to notice the stare of the younger guard. She really tried not to, but she had probably just added another rumor about the uncanny fae. When he got to the barracks, he'd probably be saying she'd talked to the wind, or something equally silly.
Even a few few weather glasses would have helped the humans immensely, avoiding disastrous crop losses from various tragedies brought on by weather. But, since they employed magic, the weather glasses were forbidden to trade, or even gift, to a human. That was yet another raft of High Elf nonsense because, other than the unbreakable glass, all the magic the instrument contained was in the informational fluid that even most fae were baffled by. It didn't have any purpose beyond harmless weather prediction and every trip she made to the human lands increased the temptation to "lose" a weatherglass, leaving it behind with trusted friends.
But her Plenilune were the smallest kingdom of the fae and hadn't achieved the respect they had by defying the wishes of their more numerous kin. Instead, Bemere employed another trait of her people, patient and subtle countermining. She wasn't the sole rebel in Allworld and their cabal would eventually find the right levers to raise the race of humans away from their half-civilized turmoil.
~~~
Princess Madeline was in the study, reading letters aloud, when Bemere snuck past to return the weatherglass to her baggage. Several of her ladies-in-waiting were gathered around her, writing on tablets as she spoke. As she began to sneak back out, Madeline saw her and waved for Bemere to join them. The elf waited as the princess finished reading the letter, before adding her own commentary. When she was done, Bemere gave her an abbreviated bow.
"Good morning, your highness," Bemere said.
With a glint in her eye, the princess stood up from her chair, and after a moment, the other women got up as well.
"May the blessed light of the selenic kingdom shine on your path, Your Plenilunic Ladyship," the princess said, dipping in a curtsy.
Bemere saw the other ladies trying to hide grins as they followed Madeline's example.
"I beg your pardon and stand corrected. Good morning, Madeline."
"Ah, much better! Good morning, Bemere," the princess replied. "Sit down with us. I'd like to introduce Halcyon and Jera to my left. On my right, the redheaded trollop is Lanette, and the very pretty blonde next to her is Constance. She's the one plotting against my shiny metal hat."
"Hello, Bemere," Constance said, leaning forward to touch her fingertips to Bemere's. "She's as full of crap as she ever was about the circlet. Now, her husband on the other hand...."
The rest of the women, Madeline included, laughed and the other women touched fingers to Bemere's, welcoming her to the Brynjarl Sands.
"What did the sky tell you?" Madeline asked.
"There's a gap between the storms coming. If I ride out tomorrow morning, I'll be able to be through the notch before the winds return."
The princess frowned, looking adorable. "I do not love the fact that you are going over the north pass. If you were my subject, you'd be taking a safer route or staying put until the skies are clear again."
"Madeline, this isn't my first trip across," Bemere reminded her gently. "And the safer routes take six or seven tendays longer than going through the Slope Counties."
"And, if we're honest, Maddy, if she was your subject, you'd have her tied to a bed somewhere," the redhead added. "At least, that's what I would do."
"Hussy!" the princess exclaimed, laughing as hard as the other women. "Darling Bemere, before you get too scandalized, these ladies-in-waiting are very old friends and even less inhibited libertines than I am."
"That's true, Maddy has always been the most proper of us," Constance said. "That's why we decided that she should be the princess. Even if it meant I had to give up Cal."
"Give him up?" Madeline laughed. "As often as we catch you two sneaking around, I don't think you can claim that you've ever given him up. Enough about my poor, abused prince. Bemere, the Goddess sent a gift of inspiration in my dreams last night."
Bemere raised her eyebrows. "When were you asleep last night?"
"Ooh, I like her," Jera told the others.
Madeline put an arm around Bemere's shoulders. "Don't be overly analytical, my elvish love. I have two things worrying me. First, you know that I'm loath to offer any offense to our oldest and dearest friends in the Selenic Court. Your mother requested a traveling companion and I would very much appreciate the opportunity to return her letter with one of my own, reassuring her that I've taken every precaution with her lovely daughter."
"Would it help if I included a note to say 'I'm fine, mom'?"
"Shh, you. There's a princess talking."
Bemere smiled. "Apologies. Please continue."
"My second problem is another guest we've had under our roof for quite a while. She's not nearly as entertaining, a new maestra daos that's here searching through our archives. She's been here for the last two seasons, per their request. Oddly, the Pale College seems to have completely forgotten about her presence here."
"But there have been signs that Osh Caernon has recently suffered through another succession," Jera said. "I have cousins who do business there and they wrote of new faces abruptly replacing the mages they've always dealt with. All of them clueless about previous agreements, and supposedly their predecessors."
