As Elayne's carriage made it's way through the crowded streets of Argon, she peered out of her window, a sly smirk on her face. Her carriage drew odd attention for it was an odd craft that many of these people had never seen nor heard of. It floated several feet above the ground, while a balloon of carefully controlled hot air attached to the top of her vehicle suspended it there. It was one of her many pride and joys, and the invention of hers that had solidified her spot as a High Scholar beyond all else – in her mind, at least.
A single extremely large horse drew the hot-air balloon carriage ever forward, while a driver from her homeland of the Pale Moors operated the craft smoothly and efficiently. The reaction from most of the people, especially the children, was one of awe – though many faces were more apprehensive than anything else. She saw an irate man about to throw a stone, but his wife stilled his arm and pointed to their children who were beyond happy with excitement as they pointed at it. He grimaced and threw the stone to the ground at his feet in frustration.
She took a small trinket, a thing made of whirring gears and parts, and opened her window so she could lightly toss it the children. It unfolded it's wings, revealing a small mechanical bird, as it glided to them. The squeals of glee and excitement were reward enough as she sat back in her seat and grinned. Most of the odd trinkets she brought were trivial things, gifts she intended for the new child-king, but she could spare a single gear-bird if it meant less people were likely to stone her carriage. The children would speak loudly to each other, and news of the generous ambassador from the Pale Moors in her odd carriage would reach the ears of the adults. That should still many of their hands, if the unusual sight of the carriage did not.
When her carriage finally stopped at the Palace some hour or two later, the driver operated the balloon so that the carriage would lower closer to the ground. She was mildly amused to see a servant swiftly opening her door, she hadn't expected them to be brave enough, but as the door opened spring-loaded steps popped out and she saw the poor man flinch in surprise. She descended them easily enough, and they retracted back into the carriage when the door was shut behind her.
When her silk slippers touched the ground, she turned to look up at her driver. “Do be a dear for me, Brimish, and make sure this is properly stored? I do not want a gift for our new King to be sullied in any fashion.” She said it just loudly enough that the servant holding her door open could hear, and she knew that the news would travel. The driver nodded his assurance that it would be done, silence was the virtue of servants – words were unnecessary unless they were incapable of performing the task assigned to them. At least, in the Pale Moors this was true.
She followed the steward, Sir Isaac, along with all of the other advisers through the gilded halls of the Palace. It was grandiose and impressive, and though normally she cared not for gold and jewels even she could find this sight intoxicating, in it's own fashion. She noticed when a servant bumped into one of the other advisers and raised a brow. She half expected the tall, pale man to get angry, but was pleasantly surprised when he brushed it off so casually. (Hmm, that was quite interesting.)
Finally they met the child-king, and Elayne performed her part perfectly, a well placed bow, low enough to be properly respectful, but inside she wanted to burst out laughing at Elendin's ridiculous nature and commentary. (A product of his environment, no doubt.) She mused to herself, her eyes flicking over to Sir Isaac.
When they were promptly dismissed, as if nothing more than a trivial occurrence and told to explore the Palace and enjoy their time until the 'morrow, Elayne watched the steward and the child-king intently. She would have to steer the waters of this political nightmare carefully, else she could find herself dashed upon the rocks without much warning. When the two servants led the group back to the main chamber, Elayne followed reflexively, her mind on the possible troubles she could face here.
She was pulled from her thoughts when the only other female adviser turned to her and made a comment about good for nothing servants. “Yes, I do wonder. Do you think that you could?” She pointed the comment at one of the servants who had led them here, her dark eyes gazing down at him imperiously. She was quite tall for a woman, even back in the Pale Moors, and many men usually met her at eye-level, though she took advantage of her height when she could. When the servant looked at her in slight confusion, she smiled. Her pearly white teeth stood out in stark contrast to her dark skin. “Could you deliver wine on time, if your life depended on it?” He took the hint and bowed quickly before scuttling away to bring them refreshments.
She turned back to Ella. “I can only hypothesize that his quest will fare better than the first, but I hope the poor chap did not truly believe his life was in danger.” Elayne chuckled at the retreating sight of him, and felt a tinge of guilt for playing her joke. “Oh, I should have asked him for some tea!” She snapped her fingers and put her hands on her hips. “Oh well, that is a fate I am not yet to meet. Such is the way of things, wine it is then. Shall we drink together, perhaps in the gardens, Lady Ella?” Elayne had paid rapt attention to the introductions earlier, putting faces to names, and names to provinces, and provinces to possible allies... and enemies.
Aisling
