Rothilion stood as I entered, but I did not make eye contact with him until both the King and Queen had nodded to me. He had me sit to his left with his wife on his right. Their granddaughter was not seated with them, but I noticed her some time later at another table at an angle from where I was seated.

  The King raised a glass and said loudly, “Peace, health, and family!”

  Everyone at the tables raised their glasses and repeated, “Peace, health, and family!” And then we started eating.

  Rothilion coached me on a little eating etiquette as well as the various fruits and vegetables that were available. I asked to sample something of all of them, which seemed to please the elves seated near me.

  In a short lull as yet another type of buttered and seasoned mushroom was brought to our table, I was able to glance around a bit more and saw that my friend Yandril was seated at the high table near the King. I asked Rothilion about this, and he hesitated before stating, “Yes, he would be seated there. He is the King’s father.” He gave me an apologetic look and then whispered behind his wine glass, “I was forbidden to tell you, but for your direct question.”

  Before I could respond to this shock, the elves around us struck up conversations that were restricted to neutral topics, but it was impossible for me to refrain from participating. More and more foods, all in very small portions, were brought to our table, and I occasionally got a laugh or praise based on my reactions to the flavors. One stodgy old elf offered me a platter of mushrooms with a, “Here, you might find these of interest.”

  Roth gently kicked me under the table.

  I accepted, examined them, and said, “Ah, these are gwids, are they not? Lovely taste but a bit smelly. Much like me, I’m afraid.”

  The old elf who sat back smugly when I accepted the tray nearly choked on his wine at my words, and the others nearby laughed in genuine humor. I seemed to be even more accepted after that, although the topics still remained light.

  I glanced up at the head table and at Yandril. He caught my eye and raised his glass, but went back to whatever conversation he was having with those around him.

  Other than the disappointment of his deception and what I had thought was the start of a true friendship, I was more than happy to praise the beauty I had witnessed with those around me. And like Fherrin, several were caught up with my wonder at the everyday things they pass by, sometimes without a second thought.

  Of course, they wanted to know about my experiences in Keelwell and especially the Dwarven Hold. Some of my history had gotten out, or maybe these elves were specially selected to entertain me.

  They are elves. Of course, they were specially selected to entertain you. Bella said. And to assess you. But despite themselves, they are starting to like you.

  Peachy. I replied.

  Hang in there. The worst is yet to come. She said and faded away once more.

  Dinner never seemed to end. However, there was a change in mood. Trays of tiny breads, cheeses, nuts, and grapes flowed, but I could tell that whatever discussions I would have with the King would begin based on the frequent glances up to the head table and then back to me.

  When the last of the trays had been placed, the King announced, “The meal is shared; let those who would seek us come forward.”

  All eyes in the room looked at our table.

  Rothilion patted my leg and stood up quite comfortably under the intense scrutiny of the room. “My King, an Elfkin has shared our meal and would seek an audience.”

  The King smiled widely, but it never reached his eyes. “Then let this honored guest come forward and be recognized.”

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Rothilion bowed and then turned to me. “I have spoken on your behalf. It is now up to you. Walk slowly and in a relaxed manner to the golden circle in the center of the room, across from the King’s table. He will call you by name, and then it will be your turn to speak.”

  I rose, thanked Rothilion, and walked as casually as I could without appearing disinterested. I nodded to some elves who made eye contact and had a smile or a frown for me. I did not discriminate. But there were some that just appeared either more powerful or simply had a presence. I recognized them as I passed.

  Upon reaching the golden circle, I faced the King.

  Bow deeply and hold the position as if you were an apprentice. Bella instructed.

  I did so, and many present began to murmur.

  After a few moments when I did not stand upright, the King said, “You honor us greatly in our Lodge. You may rise with our thanks.”

  Do not move. Bella said.

  I did not move.

  There was a lot more murmuring.

  In a slightly frustrated voice, the King repeated. “Again, we thank you, and you may stand before us and be recognized.”

  Do not move. Bella said again.

  I did not move.

  There was a great deal more murmuring, but out of my peripheral vision, I saw that the elves were nodding to themselves and looking up at the King.

  Finally, the King spoke for a third time. “Arise, son of the forest, and be recognized.”

  You have been recognized as an elf. Now rise, smile, and introduce yourself. Longest possible title, she said.

  I stood upright to the nods of approval of some and frowns from many more. I spoke in Elvish, holding off on Ancient Elvish until the need arose.

  Which I hope would not be the case.

  “Thank you, my King. I was born Hereditary Lord Gwydion Istari of Keelwell, now Gentry Lord and Champion of Keelwell. My father is Lord Randolph Istari, Royal Librarian of Keelwell and honored advisor to all seven of the good races, noble, sage, and scholars alike. My mother is Lady Joanna Maria Istari, a respected druid across the Seventh Kingdom, named Elfkin for services rendered in good faith to our Elven kingdom before I was born. I am a journeyman enchanter and treble patron housed in Keelwell at the great and honorable enchanters' guild hall. I am a master jeweler and master gemcutter. I am named Gwydion Istari Ringweaver, Dwarfkin and brother to the Dwarven King Flavnar Ringweaver of Copper Mountains Hold. I am a Dwarven Master and member of the Masters Council with all the rights and privileges granted this title, and I am the first human to receive this privilege. I am Earthkin, Gemstone Whisperer and Stone Speaker. I am Commander of the Special Services for Duke Philip Medici of Keelwell, appointed to defend the city against the invading forces led by a legendary infernal and the start of the Fourth Goblin War. I am called Patron by those in the Services, composed of journeymen for ten mage guilds, clerics, inquisitors, brawlers, and City Watch. I am Shepherd of Shepherds and Paladin, called to the service of the Light.”

  The room was utterly silent, and the King stared at me without emotion on his face, but his eyes looked like they could spit fire.

  Well done. Nice ending, it is the position of greatest honor. Bella said. The King is off balance by the significance of your achievements. This was not shared with him by his father or in sufficient detail for him to pay attention when Rothilion tried to do so. He placed you at a mid-level table when you should have been seated at his own. This is now fully known to all. He also refused to recognize you as an Elfkin until a third request for you to rise. He will be wary of you now, believing you well schooled in Elven etiquette and deception. He is not well pleased to look the fool before his court.

  But I know very little about Elven etiquette. I replied.

  Yes. This could be an issue.

  You say this to me now? I sent to her, trying not to panic.

  Finally, the King responded. “You honor us with your visit. I was not aware of the significance of your achievements; else we would have welcomed the interesting conversations that would surely have followed with your inclusion at our table.” He looked at his father. “Your pet has a pedigree far-reaching beyond his years.”

  Some elves laughed, and I did not get the feeling it was meant to be complimentary.

  Still facing his father and not me, the King continued, “This youngling human has achieved much in a short time, but I fail to see why you spoke on his behalf to enter our hall in order to seek an audience.”

  The King had said a moment ago that had he known of my works, he would have invited me to his table, and now questions his father as to why I was even here. I said to Bella. What gives?

  The King is upset and trying to lay the blame at the feet of another. To do so at the feet of the ambassador Rothilion would be too easy since he is a servant of the crown, although that may yet come. Politely dressing down his father, once a great King and sage, places the blame on a more equal footing. It is a daring exchange and one that the elves here will speak of for years to come, regardless of the outcome.

  I don’t understand. I said, frustrated.

  Hush. Listen to their dialogue because you will be called upon soon to defend the father’s words.

  “The young patron and I had a lovely walk through some of the gardens of the Wisdom quarter. It was truly refreshing to see the excitement and wonder in his eyes for the beauty of our land that we often take for granted. He was like a young elf experiencing the joys of our life that we so often pass by.”

  The King replied. “Yes, so you said. Twice. And twice I ask you, honored as the human may be and accomplished as well, but why him, why here, and why now, father?”

  There was a stirring among some of the elder elves. It seemed that the King was rude in some way with his response, but I did not see how.

  The King’s father, Yandril, nodded. “Did you know that I found him reading one of my published works? Of all his choices in the library, he was reading my work on tree identity. Amazing. He mistakenly thought it was Rothilion’s work. Quite unusual.”

  “Yes, father. We all remember how unusual your suggestions were in that particular volume. But we have a war to wage, and there is little appetite among our people for distractions. Thrice I ask you and done. Why should the King of the elves meet with this young human when we have already sent answers to his superiors in Keelwell?”

  There was even more stirring and not just among the older elves. There was something about asking a direct question three times that created some kind of consternation among the elves.