Well all things considered this had proven to be one of the most amicable competitions for a throne the world had ever seen. The next few days were somehow simultaneously a whirlwind and a ponderous bore. The capital was sent into overdrive and no doubt the other territories were already feeling the emotional ripple of Alaric's rise to the throne but between sending countless letters home and planning to see Enea's affairs Anfel was left to stand around for unseemly amounts of time as old men in clerical robes that were far too big for their withered frames rambled on in a list of countless oaths while choirs of young boys sang on in dead languages. The presentation was superb though, Anfel couldn't deny them that. 

So after that handful of days, and the mutliple outfits that were needed for each new occasion they offered, it was time to hold dear King Gyre's first royal council. These were usually a simple matter of routine in times past, talking over tax rates that would never be allowed to change or mustering forces to send south, into the seemingly endless meat grinder of the desert. 

This time would be a very different affair though. with new council members being selected, envoys of foreign lands were waiting to greet the newly crowned monarch. Of course before it all started everyone had to make the rounds, saying their good mornings and commenting on how lovely everyone looked, making sure there were still no hard feelings all that transpired over the voting. 

Anfel was almost excited about the sudden rise of the new duchess Suran Keto. Finally, another half elf to join her in these meetings of the nobility! And another red head, why people might mistake them for sisters. Anfel had almost talked her ears off when greeting the stoic woman into the meeting, such was her excitement. Indeed, if nothing else she would have to make her greatest mission of the day to make sure Lady Keto agreed to visit her in Stag's Hearth for a week. Perhaps she'd throw a tourney, from what little she'd heard of the woman she was quite militarily inclined. [i]'What exciting times we live in.'[/i] She pondered. It was certainly a great step for fellow mixed raced folk like themselves. Osteria was stepping into the future it seemed. 

That would have to wait though. Already everyone was clamoring to make their voices heard as ritual and tradition flipped their new king's early promises on their head. Handy really, if things worked out properly then Alaric could go back on the plans outlined in the choosing. The position of marshal was open and being vied for as those with more knowledge of martial affairs. Anfel wasn't about to interfere with such matters that were so publicly far from her area of expertise. There was something she did care to weigh in on though.

"Excuse me, Your Grace, if I may be so bold." Anfel said once the latest speaker was done saying their peace. She rose from her seat, smoothing out her long flowing skirt and raised her hand as if waving to a fellow lady across the parlor. "But I Should also like to put my name forward for consideration for the position of royal spymaster." She said it almost conversationally. "Of course assuming I am accepted then I shall be happy to take up rooms in the capital and to give half my chartered resources to the crown. I'm more than happy to give a more impassioned speech if that is the expected thing. But to rant about how one would go about managing a colourful bunch like The Wasps in public for all to hear seems to fly in the face of the position I petition for, wouldn't you all say? So if I am to ask my own favour from his majesty then it is to give such reasoning in private, perhaps even after the councils business is concluded. Unless we are all in such a rush you would have me whisper it in your ear here and now but such a thing hardly seems proper." Not for his first day on the throne at least, Anfel thought, taking her seat with a mischievous smirk.