Camilla made an elegant curtsey to the Duke and his entourage. Not for the first time, she wished she had some idea what Dietricha was playing it. It had occurred to her that perhaps the wizard was simply insane, but Yantz’s steadfast, if somewhat reluctant, faith in the woman seemed at odds with that interpretation. 

“Ah this is the Herr Richter I have heard so much about,” Enrik said, with a slight sardonic humor to his voice. Camilla had the feeling that the Duke knew exactly who his guests were.

“And the lovely Gabriella,” he said, taking Camilla’s hand in his own and kissing it in appropriate Imperial fashion.

“We are honored to have such guests with us tonight. May I introduce, Gilvinus, Coriliene and Indendre, not their real names Im sure but as close as we poor humans might hope to come,” the Duke went on guesturing to the immaculate elves with a wave of his hand. Once again Camilla got the sense that the Duke was mocking, though this time it was the haughty elves who were the target of his subtle humor. The elves all offered graceful bows though they were very slight, perhaps the minimum courtesy dictated. Indendre’s eyes widened slightly as he drew close to Camila, a tiny gesture, noticeable only because of the flawless calm it disturbed. To the surprise of everyone, including, apparently, his companions, the elf leaned forward and kissed her hand as the Duke had done. He pulled back eyes thoughtful and calculating.

“YOu have the look of a military man Herr Richter,” the Duke was saying, apparently oblivious to the byplay, “what is your assessment of the military threat. Need we merely wait of General Winter to win this battle for us?”
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