The wedding was a tiresome affair for Eli, though that was nothing new. He could often be found sitting quietly by himself among crowds and revelry, and that was how he preferred it, but that had been hard to achieve at this royal wedding. Eli was not one for expressive jubilation, or expressive anything for that matter, so he tended to drift toward the edges of activity to claim a relatively calm and quiet space for himself. Normally he might have succeeded and found a refuge among his fellow Midlanders, but being something like a guest of honor, invited to fight in the final event of the tournament, brought plenty of attention his way. Eli supposed he should get used to this sort of thing, since regardless of winning or losing on the morrow the name Eli the Fearsome would probably spread throughout the people of Albany. Unless he died, of course, in which case he would have no need to fret about dealing with the attentions of admirers or detractors.

Both types of attention came his way that night, mainly the latter. Nobody knew who Eli would be fighting, but the lords of Albany made many snide remarks about how he was sure to lose against the king's chosen champion. They apparently viewed it as some show to prove the might of their homeland against foreigners, wherein the champion of Albany would defeat the champion of the Land of a Thousand Kings and prove once and for all which was the greater land. Eli was very amused by those implications. Judging from the indifference or outright coldness he received from most of the other Midland visitors, they did not view him as their representative in any way. A couple had implied that he was some kind of traitor since he fought for various lords of Albany, never mind the fact that he'd never turned his sword against his homeland. It was all very tedious and draining, but he responded to all of them with courtesy nonetheless.

Eli sat at the edge of the largest pocket of Midlanders, at the side of the room bur near to the dais as befit the higher stature of those making up this clump, and felt the position was very suiting. He was on the border between his homeland and Albany, a presence in both but truly part of neither. He was left alone for the moment, all those who wanted to wish him ill for tomorrow's fight apparently having already done so, and he looked round the room without any goal in mind, just seeing what was happening and keeping an eye on the goings on. Amidst this aimless watching, Eli saw a particular set of eyes turn his way a few times, seemingly directly and only at him before looking away. That struck him as passing strange. He had made his courtesies to the king earlier, thanking him for the honor of the invitation, and he had extended that to the queen as well. Why in the world would she be looking at him? Did she think his earlier address had been rude since he did not speak to her directly, only as a secondary inclusion in what he said to King Pompey? Did she view him as some kind of foreign threat that needed to be watched? There was really only one way to find out.

After making his way through the various tables and standing people, Eli stood at the base of the dais. He was not nearly so presumptuous as to climb the steps without leave, so he bowed to her from where he was. His left hand naturally went to his hip to grasp his sword hilt, the traditional warrior's bow, but it closed on empty air; he had left his sword behind and went to the wedding unarmed, as doing otherwise would have been seen as an insult or perhaps a threat. As he stood straight he put on the slight smile he used for diplomatic endeavors, squinting his eyes just a bit to make the pleasure look genuine. He'd already decided to act as if he was here of his own volition, rather than coming to see why the queen kept looking at him, and appearing pleased to be in her presence would help with his chosen excuse.

"Queen Julia, it is an honor to stand before you. I fear I may have been impolite earlier, when I spoke to the king and gracelessly ignored your presence. Your radiance was so captivating that I found myself tongue-tied, and so I fled without paying proper respects. I am a simple wandering knight, and a foreigner at that, but if there is anything I can do to make up for my earlier impertinence I am at your service." Eli bowed once more, this time holding his left hand out slightly to the side in proper courtly fashion rather than reaching for a missing sword. He hoped he'd gotten his guess right about the reason for her glances, and that the queen did not view him as a threatening presence, otherwise this foolish gesture might be taken in very much the wrong way.