He had no real idea why he had been summoned. 
Well, Meldyr expected it was simple courtesy. He [i]was[/i] a lord of the realm, albeit a minor one that lived in a backwater area of the nation. He wore armor and cloaks more than fine coats, and he practiced the sword with a dedication that matched other lords in practicing dining etiquette. For once, however, his face was not covered in the grime of the mudded mountains he patrolled, nor did he have any unattended wounds or aches, having left the defense of the eastern passes to his second in command, Frankfurt. 

His face was ruddy from the road, however. Meldyr cut a darkly handsome figure in his coat and breeches, albeit an unkempt figure. He held himself with confidence and there was a gleam of intelligence in his eyes as he stepped into the great hall. His eyes left the stonework of the outer hall and drank in all of the fine lords and ladies that mingled and ate fresh chicken, peas, apples, potatos, and enjoyed the finest wine. 

He sighed, remembering how it was in his father's court in what seemed a lifetime ago. It looked very much like this, only Meldyr was the High lord's son, not some outcast Knight commander with a small fief. The pompous scene reminded him of why he had actually decided to come. First and foremost he didn't want to give a bad impression with not showing up to the new Queen. But he also wanted to see what kind of woman she was. He wanted to make sure he was following a strong reagent and not a corrupt or lazy one. 

A servant passed him by with a plate of drinks. "Is there ale?" Meldyr asked, his voice was not boisterous or loud, but there was a commanding undertone only a Knight used to combat would have. 

"No sir, only wine." The servant said. Meldyr sighed, and took a glass, the slim neck of the glass between his ring and middle finger. "Guess that'll do." 
 [@HushedWhispers]