47th of Searing, Year 120
It had been a few days coming. Despite her station, even Eloise had a difficult time acquiring the attention of the Queen. The two had parleyed via letter for some time, though the Umpire had complained on a daily basis that she had been stuck dealing with the bureaucracy of the Queen's advisors, who had filtered her letters through their own agendas before handing them off to the Queen. All of them were hopeful of passing off the Covenant's message themselves -- and excluding the fact that the information had come from the investigations of Taelian and Eloise. They had consistently asked that the woman pass off the details first, before arriving in Alfsos, in order for the Queen to consider her request sufficiently urgent.
Of course, this was the farce -- and after a long discourse and Eloise's repeated reply of, 'I must inform the Queen myself', the pressure of discovering the bomber's identities amidst the precipice of war was enough to grant the woman the audience she wanted.
Only, Eloise did not attend. In her final letter she stated that Taelian, the man who in truth investigated the matter himself, would come to offer Queen Luteria his own regards. This was a test to see if his political skills had come anywhere from his first meeting with Loregard's Finla, and also to bring about some rise to his standing in the Kingdom's courts.
Beyond that, it was - in some way - a possible sacrifice of liability in case the Queen found their actions unacceptable. Each of the Umpire's actions were consecutive and precise -- she ensured that she would benefit from the information, or at least would not suffer for it. Even if Taelian had to take the fall for her, it only served to thin unnecessary members from the Covenant's ranks.
His mentor had always been rough, ever since he'd first come to Atinaw to meet with her again. The time they spent together in that cabin in the north, sharing stories and learning of one another's past, it often felt like a ruse. The deeper he went into the Covenant, the more he found that ideology preceded even the brotherhood they claimed to share.
But that was alright. The Covenant had offered him his own opportunities -- and now, in the eye of the Kingdom, he was waiting within a luxuriously decorated room to meet with one of the most powerful people in the world. He had been nearly stunned all those months ago as he'd met with Sahfri, the Lady of Kalzasi, but her prestige and position paled in comparison to Queen Rutheesee-Sil. This was a meeting that he would never forget, and one that he would never live down if he failed to offer the woman anything of worth.
Perhaps it was a meeting he wouldn't even live past. That remained to be seen.
"Her Majesty will arrive shortly," one of the court attendants informed him as he slightly parted the door from its frame, his fingers running across the smooth wooden hinge. The Siltori nodded slightly, maintaining a... demure, somewhat cool, expression. He wore perhaps the most regal garment he'd ever put upon himself -- a beige colored satin outfit with embroidered silver trimmings. It opened down his chest and across the wide collar was a length of encrusted gems, appearing to shimmer white similarly to a collection of diamonds. In some way it was an opulent illusion; he was wealthy, but not enough so that he could wear something like that naturally. It had all been tailored by Wylen to represent Siltori fashion in a way suitable for Atinorin court, while also maintaining enough wealth and glamour to be suitable for visiting one of Ailizane's esteemed rulers.
Taelian even wore jewelry. A golden bangle-like choker around his neck, more encrusted jewels along the edges of his sharp ears, and a glitter-like assortment of small rocks forming an arch-like pattern along his cheekbones. His silver-pale hair was short as always, though if not for his muscular frame the Elf would perhaps appear... almost androgynous.
Rather than maintaining the typical masculine ordinance of a man of Atinaw's court, with thick furs and heavy garments, Taelian was sleek and exotic. His long trousers, tied to his open satin vest by a thin leather belt, spoke of a different sort of nobility -- one not really seen much in the contemporary world. He heralded back to the fashions of the Siltori during the Clockwork days, at least what little was known and preserved.
Taelian had prepared what to say. He had been getting better at Kokalath -- he only hoped his words, loose though partly rehearsed, would be enough to satisfy the Queen's standards.
