Upon the conclusion of open court, Alinore had descended from the dais to drift among the nobles she hadn’t spoken to for many seasons now. It was good to be back, and it was good for them to remember that she, too, was a part of this court. When Warren Woodwick approached her, she politely extracted herself from a rather tedious conversation with a noblewoman about the difference in fashion trends between Arynn Frey and Nevermere and prepared for what she hoped would be a more enjoyable interaction.

Given that he had a tendency to linger on the peripherals of any gathering, assuming he even made an appearance, she knew little about the man himself. If she remembered her families correctly, and she usually did, he carried on a legacy of military service and had made a name for himself in Cambria. According to her brother, a twenty two year old soldier, he had also established some sort of reputation among his subordinates for overseeing particularly demanding drills, which, as far as she was concerned, was only to be expected if one chose such a life. A military man who, regardless of his apparent disinterest in court politics, had certainly drawn their attention today and earned himself either notoriety or regard from those in attendance.

“Lieutenant Woodwick,” She greeted him, inclining her head and offering a polite smile in response to his bow. The soldier types were always so deferential; a blunt instrument though it may be, the military certainly taught her sons and daughters how to treat their superiors with respect. It was a shame so many forgot those lessons after walking through the training yard for the last time. “The pleasure is mine.” His statement earned him a considering glance that he missed while he looked around the room, but before she could respond, another voice intervened.

“Woodwick, a word, if you please.”

The tone suggested that Woodwick would please regardless of his personal preferences on the matter. Alinore waited a moment, then turned to face the newcomer with the faintest hint of a sneer ghosting across a frosty quirk of the lips.

“And Lady Thornhill,” The man added belatedly, as if only now noticing her existence. Unfortunately, the boar of a man was hardly an unfamiliar presence in Nevermere’s court, for he had a tendency to appear when and where he was least wanted and lacked the common courtesy of making himself scarce shortly after. She might have considered it a talent but for the way in which the places where he was least wanted were often everywhere.

“Lord Vernon, I thought I heard your voice earlier.” A pause, in which she watched him puff up as he erroneously drew the conclusion that her observation was some sort of compliment. “How may we help you?”

Vernon glanced at her, then turned his full attention to the Lieutenant with the air of one discarding the chaff for the wheat. It was noted.

“What are you playing at, Woodwick,” He demanded, stepping up to the other man with the righteousness of only the truly ignorant. “Cause trouble when there is none, is that it? Now that we’ve got Cambria and Coheed—“ The territory names were spoken with the same sort of disdain that had dripped from Lord Howell’s words during the court proceedings themselves “—there’s no one left to fight, so you would have His Majesty send our sons and daughters to die for a people who would not do the same for them - and for what?” A brief pause as he looked the Lieutenant up and down, eyeing his uniform. “Job security?”

Alinore, whose cool gaze had rested on the speaker, flicked her gaze in Lieutenant Woodwick’s direction now. In her opinion, Vernon was the kind of man who achieved one moderately notable success in his life and thought that earned him a place among the best. He was a fool who only solidified that judgement every time he opened his mouth. But foolish though he was, Lord Vernon was not without influence and influential friends, and so he could not be so crudely dismissed.

Well now, this was considerably more entertaining than discussing fashion trends across the continent. Many years had passed since she had witnessed an officer in the military pull rank, for usually such instances featured overconfident children and teenagers in the military wing who had yet to have such disrespect drilled out of them. Vernon, evidently, had missed that lesson, but judging by the angry flush rising to his face, he was certainly learning it now.

Noting with interest that the Lieutenant’s first objection was not to any of the numerous insults to him but rather the single one to her, Alinore watched the exchange between the two men with a facade of polite disinterest resting easily across her features. Dark eyes settled on the foolish nobleman standing before them, and as satisfying as it was to witness a rebuttal that might shamed any other man into silence, she thought the officer was perhaps rather more blunt than strictly advisable.

Present company notwithstanding, they were in court among civilized individuals after all, not in the training yard where the plebeians ran freely among the patricians.

However, she understood the sentiment. Most nobles became as uncouth as any commoner behind closed doors; Vernon required no such barricade before he exposed himself as a wholly unsophisticated individual. A simple creature such as himself used brute force and blunt words to get his point across, and true to form, Vernon did not back down as the Lieutenant towered over him. Instead, he inflated with the self-righteous ire and importance of a ruler condemning his disobedient subjects, though Alinore thought he spent significantly less time actually watching how a king behaved than he did staring in the mirror imagining himself as one. “What proof do you have that the Eldouir are not content with what they have won? They have a kingdom, power, and the entire continent knows their names.” He said this as if he could hardly imagine wanting more from life. “We are their largest threat, yet it has been five years of silence from Dresmond. They know they can’t touch us, else they would have attacked us already. We do not need to provoke them into fighting when it is easier for both of us to, as Lord Howell said, let sleeping dogs lie.

“And,” He continued. “You do not speak to me like that. I am not one of your soldiers, Woodwick,” He sneered the name. “You cannot order me around and expect me to mindlessly obey your every word. You forget which one of us has a higher standing in this court.”

Alinore tilted her head slightly, and, hands folded politely in front of her, she interjected coolly, “As Lieutenant Woodwick has so astutely reminded us, I believe that would be me.”

Caught off guard by the onlooker who had thus far remained silent, he looked at her for the first time and faltered at what he saw. “I- I- Yes, of course, Lady Thornhill.”

Her smile was glacial. “You appear to have given the matter of Dresmond quite a bit of thought, Lord Vernon.”

“I have.”

“I imagine you must consider yourself an intelligent man, to have drawn so many conclusions from such limited information. Unless, of course, you are privy to knowledge not granted to the rest of us?” Neither the way he straightened up under the perceived compliment nor the negative answer to her question were particularly surprising. She carried on lightly, “Look around you, Lord Vernon. Where are we?”

The non-sequitur confused him. Vernon looked around. “The court…?”

“We are among polite society,” She agreed, dark eyes lazily sweeping around the room for a moment before returning to him. “And though His Majesty undoubtedly has many reasons for inviting us to court, I would expect that chief among them is that we do not display the puerile and crude behavior expected of all those who have not received such an honor.” A pause, then, delicately, “You are a member of this court, are you not, Lord Vernon?” Alinore waited for his nod before continuing on in the same tone, “Then I fail to see a reason, Lord Vernon, for why a man of your intelligence and capabilities would continue to have such difficulty in understanding Lieutenant Woodwick’s request that you refer to him by either of his proper titles, even as you demand that he show you the common courtesies you’ve yet to show him.” She let the statement hang in the air, suspended in silence.

Then she added, “Should this matter be rectified, I am confident a man of his standing will address you with all the respect you are owed.” As far as she was concerned, Lieutenant Woodwick had already spoken to Vernon with precisely the amount of respect the man deserved, but appearances had to be maintained. So she turned to the officer standing beside her. “Is that correct, Lieutenant?”

Lieutenant Woodwick agreed with her declaration, though she expected no less from a man she was beginning to suspect had internalized all that rhetoric about honor and respect and duty etc that the military so enjoyed throwing around. Such virtues rarely lasted long among the courtiers who frequented such gatherings, and those bound too closely to a rigid code often made for easy prey for the lions who circled, waiting for the slightest hint of weakness before eradicating its source. Against fools like Vernon, the Lieutenant could hold his own, but then, so could anyone with a modicum of intelligence.

Dispassionately, Alinore watched the man stutter through his acquiescence before deciding even prior to the Lieutenant’s response that she had spent more than enough time in Vernon’s company. The nobleman clearly nursed the expectation that others would be as enamored with the sound of his voice as he was and had yet to realize that his audience had long since learned that he contributed nothing of substance. And, as Lieutenant Woodwick so aptly pointed out, her time was far too valuable to be spent on such a boorish individual.

“While we value your input as much as anyone, Lord Vernon,” She said smoothly, before he had a chance to answer the Lieutenant’s inquiry. “Lieutenant Woodwick and I were having a conversation before you arrived.” The dismissal was evident in her voice. “As confident as you are in your convictions, Lord Vernon, I daresay one would expect the Lieutenant, as an officer in His Majesty’s military, to have a more discerning perspective on military matters than you or I. Perhaps further discussion with him later will provide some clarity and allow you both to reach a mutual understanding.” Her own opinions toward assisting the Dresmondi aside, she had her doubts as to the productivity of such talks between two individuals so entrenched in their own perspectives, but though she did not envy Lieutenant Woodwick the future task of dealing with Vernon’s wounded pride, she felt little remorse for leaving him with an unpleasantry that she, as one whose job involved mediating relations between kingdoms and the individuals who ruled them, was infinitely more suited for.

Welcome to court, Lieutenant.

Once Vernon had crawled back to the metaphorical pit from whence he had come, she turned her attention to the man standing at her side and waited politely for him to address his reasons for approaching her today.

Uncouth, perhaps, but not unforgivable. Not impossible to understand either, even if she had masked her disdain with far more success than the Lieutenant standing beside her. She acknowledged his apology with a nod, stating only, “Some unpleasantries of life cannot be helped, only governed to the best of our ability.” The attentions and temper of an impotent boar of a man being chief among them.

As he voiced his implicit question, she offered him the polite smile of nobility, though one warmer than the glacial quirk of the lips that Vernon had earned. “How thoughtful of you to ask,” Alinore said, well aware of the distance her words could travel given that she was the resident expert on their ally. “Arynn Frey have been gracious hosts and very accommodating, despite the differences between our kingdoms.” And of those, there were many. “They have a unique perspective on life, and most of the citizens of Arynn Frey appear to be scholars. As a society, they place great value on reason and the pursuit of knowledge, not unlike some individuals here.” She paused, then asked, “Are there any particular matters you would like to hear about in more detail, Lieutenant?”

Military men. More often than not, it was all about swords and steel for them; she recognized that she should have known what sort of information he sought. Nevertheless, amusement flickered through her as she corrected lightly, “A dedicated man. It is only to Nevermere’s benefit that we have men as committed to their duties as you, Lieutenant.” She considered what she had learned, through proximity and idle conversation, of their ally’s military prowess. Those in Arynn Frey were remarkably open about what they shared, and she was skilled enough at court politics to ask the proper questions whose answers, when pieced together, would reveal what people would not tell her directly. True secrets were few and far between in a kingdom that prized knowledge and the free flow of information that facilitated such endeavors, particularly when her citizens absolutely adored enthusing about their work.

“They call their soldiers Peacekeepers.” A sardonic lilt entered her voice at the name. While she understood well enough the power of propaganda, rebranding an entire fighting force seemed more like denial of what they were than any attempt to mask their purpose from an unsuspecting people; anyone with any sense could recognize the military for what it was, and as a citizen of Nevermere, Alinore was perhaps better equipped than most to do so. She had spent six years learning for herself how one functioned, after all. “There are three branches - the infantry, cavalry, and artillery - of which the latter appears to be the largest.” Lieutenant Woodwick could draw what strategic conclusions from that he would, but to Alinore, such emphasis completed the image of a kingdom that did not like to get its hands dirty. Bombarding an enemy from afar was a very easy way to remain separate from the brutal realities of war.

Not that this generation of Arynnites knew war - no one did, not even their leadership. “They have recently promoted a new Head of Cavalry, equivalent to a Captain, I believe. Some consider him young for the position.“ Age did not always correlate with experience or sensibility - Vernon was a prime example of that - but what had struck her the most about Arynn Frey’s military was their lack of experience. Nevermere had fought in Cambria and Coheed, but despite their training and enchanted items, she considered it prudent to point out, “Arynn Frey has not seen battle in hundreds of years.” Lieutenant Woodwick would know far better than her, she presumed, the difference between seasoned soldiers and those who were well-trained but had yet to experience warfare.

A pause. “It likely would not surprise you to hear that reliance on their enchantments is woven into the fabric of Arynn Frey’s society, but they also utilize them, quite creatively, for convenience.” An apparent non-sequitur, perhaps, but she carried on regardless, providing the Lieutenant with a couple examples. “Lights that never dim. Water that flows into your washbasin at the touch of your fingertips.” Alinore could hardly fault them for their creature comforts. “Imagine what such creative minds could invent when it comes to the weapons and tools of warfare.”

“It is a curious duality, isn’t it, Lieutenant Woodwick,” She mused idly in response to his philosophizing. “Luxury and lethality, both brought about by the same enchantments.” A force ultimately destined to destroy, her own brand of magic was not nearly so versatile. Although she considered herself far more familiar with the everyday conveniences that such magic wrought, Alinore had no doubt that her companion could think of many practical applications for Arynn Frey’s enchantments that could improve Nevermere’s fighting forces. Truly, the understanding of and ability to wield such magic would only benefit their kingdom as a whole; though she may quietly anticipate the day she could properly return to Nevermerean society, she knew firsthand how easy it was to become accustomed to the little luxuries that existed only within their ally’s borders.

“Naturally, they guard the secrets to casting their enchantments rather fiercely.” It was, as far as she could tell, the only knowledge hidden behind metaphorical lock and key in the entire kingdom, which caused her no small amount of frustration; the most useful feature of Arynn Frey would, of course, be the one that she, as an outsider, could not directly access. “Though they will talk quite freely about every other aspect of their magic.” A brief pause, and then she added, almost as a bemused afterthought, “They will talk quite freely about everything.” The lack of propriety, at least in terms of appropriate conversation topics, in Arynn Frey was truly bizarre.

Lieutenant Woodwick asked about Queen Kimora, and even as she recalled years spent at the other woman’s beck and call, Alinore knew well to choose her words wisely when discussing the conduct of another kingdom’s leader. After a moment, she said delicately, “The Queen is as one might expect from a woman of her background and standing.” She offered a courtier’s smile then carried on before he could consider how little her answer truly revealed. “Forgive me for returning to this matter - I will be brief - but I confess myself rather curious: it is my understanding that we still have soldiers stationed in Coheed and Cambria.” A younger brother in the military had his uses. “Do you not worry that we might stretch ourselves too thin by sending soldiers into Dresmond as well?”

“Of course,” She agreed smoothly. One could not fault Arynn Frey for guarding the details of performing their enchantments – after all, it wasn’t as though Alinore was teaching them how she cast her magic – but as an influential noblewoman rather accustomed to receiving what she asked for, she did not take kindly to the resolute denial of knowledge.

At Lieutenant Woodwick’s request for clarification, her own eyebrow rose, and she imagined, for a moment, how appalled Nevermerean nobility would be at some of the conversations she had overheard whilst in their ally’s capital city. She certainly had been, the first time she had encountered such talk. Though it had since ceased to surprise her in quite the same way, her approval, or lack thereof, of so openly holding such discussions had not changed. “I mean,” Alinore elaborated lightly. “Everything. Even topics which ought to remain behind closed doors, between husband and wife, and they do so without a care for whether such matters are fitting for polite society.” It was as bizarre as it was shocking.

Though she had turned the conversation back to Dresmond, Alinore had little interest in discussing it beyond what was necessary for him to answer her question. As far as she was concerned, Kennet Caern had revealed quite clearly the inclinations of the king regarding the inevitable conflict with the Eldouir, and while he may have been an officer in the military, Lieutenant Woodwick was ultimately one of the many who would be sent, rather than one of those who would be doing the sending. But still, it seemed to her as though stretching their military thin might have been the only reasonable argument against his support for going to war in Dresmond, and she had been curious to see his defense. As it was, he had little to say on the matter, so she inclined her head and, after a moment, quietly revealed her own opinion on the topic. “Sleeping dogs do not sleep forever. Sometimes it can be advantageous to wake them on our own terms.”

As the Lieutenant had argued previously, the Eldouir were a threat that would not extinguish themselves, and the acquisition of Dresmond and their control over the elements would only strengthen Nevermere. That a single course of action would simultaneously resolve both matters was satisfyingly elegant. On the matter of his preparing his soldiers for future conflict, she considered briefly the man’s reputation among his subordinates with faint amusement. “I imagine few of your soldiers will appreciate your efforts,” Alinore mused idly, already imagining the complaints she would receive from her brother. “But when the time comes, they will be stronger for it.” And, more importantly, so would their kingdom.