Taelian noticed the steadily firming grip, and did not flinch or recoil from it. Instead, he held Ford's hand equally as solidly, before loosing his grip and tracing his fingertips over the other man's palm. The Knight eyed his companion beside him, offering him a smooth, reassuring smile.
"Of course I have thought of that," Eloise replied, her hands settling back over her lap. A cat suddenly sprung from somewhere else in the lower floor, leaping onto the armrest and offering the half-Elf a quiet mewl, which she responded to with an absent stare. Eloise was the pinnacle of nobility: she wore herself with a constant high-esteem, of a like unseen by any others but those in the Daravinic Entente. The Candor had taught her how to present herself well, and how to always project power. Even though Taelian was stronger than her as a mage, she was infinitely his superior, and that was made clear by every detail of her body language and even her position in the environment.
"We play a fine balance here, Ser Edevane. The Lords of this realm, and all of these scattered realms, do not want to see us as anything but an asset to them. By stoking positive affections with the people, we risk the gentry's mistrust; they may believe we are here to turn the people against them, or become beloved public figures to avoid persecution. We quickly become a liability, the more influence we acquire outside of the courts. Past attempts to endear ourselves with the people of Tyrclaid have seen some of our members to the gallows for public execution. We will not make that mistake again." The woman reached out to stroke the white-furred cat, which pressed its head into her hand, closing its eyes and purring. "And please -- I imagine you are calling me madame because I am from the Empire, but I am Lady now. I do not tie myself to my Daravinic heritage any longer." She tipped her head.
Taelian said little to that; it wasn't as if he could disagree. Eloise was right -- they had to weigh public perception with that of the nobility's trust, which was ultimately more important to their survival. The woman planned on influencing the public in much more subtle ways, which was why men like Ford were joining their ranks: they could use more sophisticated techniques to subconsciously alter the feelings of millions, rather than risking the ire of local Earls town-by-town.
"I have little more to say. Taelian -- have you told Ford of our policy about your heritage?" she asked.
The man shook his head, turning to his lover to speak. "Don't tell anyone," he muttered. "No one can know I'm a Draedan. If they know, they will come for me, for you, and for our children. Divine Sparks are the most valuable resource on Atharen, and they can be extracted. There's already a theory circulating that many of Grisic's great inventions are powered by them... thus the fervor to hunt us."
The Umpire nodded. "Correct. Taelian talks up a storm, but he has not publicly revealed his identity, nor should he. The return of the Gods may change things, but perhaps it may also change things for the worse. We cannot know yet. Until we have deliberated on the public status of Taelian's heritage further, tell no one. I cannot warn you strongly enough."
