Food and conversation

The feast goes by in a whirlwind; you have never had so many guests in the Great Hall, nor such a variety of dishes prepared in such great quantity. Fortunately, Duncan has prepared you for your role at such an event, explaining what is expected of you as a King. Each dish is brought before the main table so that you and your most honored guests may be served first, and then at your command the dishes are brought to the one you designate, and in this way you may show favor. While it is quite an interesting experience, it does rather preclude conversation, and you find yourself increasingly glad of the pause between courses - and increasingly stuffed!

"Xavier, where on Earth did your cooks learn to prepare a roasted camel?" Subhi El-Zamani asks you as the massive main course is brought out - upon a giant shield rather than a platter, as none could be found that was large enough.

"The camel was acquired from a passing caravan over a year ago, anticipating this event," you tell him. "The beast has been living quite a relaxed and sedentary lifestyle since then, but as he retained his ill temper to the end, the farmer to whom I entrusted him was more than happy to be done with it. As for the preparation, I confess that one of the riders I sent out to meet your party on the road was an assistant to my chef, under secret orders to obtain the recipe from yours. We were not able to find all the necessary spices, so I fear it will not quite taste like home, but we have done what we could. The most difficult part was cooking it; we had no oven into which it would fit, so it was necessary to construct one in the yard. I have feared that the wind would shift and the aroma of the smoke would spoil the surprise!"

Subhi sniffs the air and smiles. "Not quite right, as you say... but close enough! Does this then mean that the rumors are true?"

"Rumors?" you ask.

"That you have found your Queen, of course! Did no one tell you that the dish is traditionally served at weddings?"

You can feel your cheeks flush slightly. "It seems that my advisors missed that part," you tell him. "I won't deny that the matter has been on my mind, but I'm afraid I've had little time to pursue it."

"I would imagine, my friend, that the matter will pursue you given the chance!" Subhi says.

"Indeed, Sire, perhaps it already has," says Arethousa, proprietor of the bathing pools. "Before I came to Elyssia, I was the next in line as High Priestess to the Temple of Aphrodite, so I believe I may speak authoritatively upon matters of love. And it may be that on this very day, you have been struck not by a wayward arrow, but one of Cupid's darts!"

Katyana drops her fork suddenly.

"While I cannot match your expertise in love, Arethousa, I believe I am the foremost expert on how it felt when I was shot today... and I assure you, it was a human arrow fired from a human bow." You smile at her to also assure her and all present that you can appreciate a bit of humor as well as anyone.

"Lady Katyana, you have been very quiet since you made your impassioned speech just before the feast," Lady Rosaline says, draining her goblet and putting it down with a -clunk- which clearly shows that it is far from the first such goblet she has drained. "I'm afraid I was absent from the hall and missed King Xavier's display of gallantry and self-sacrifice... you were certainly close to the action, what sort of arrow would you say it was?"

"A deadly one, Lady Rosaline," Katyana says, turning her diamond eyes upon the other woman, and the temperature at the table drops ten degrees.

"Well, you would -" Rosaline starts to say, but then she meets Katyana's eyes, and it is as if she has suddenly found herself staring at a drawn sword. "Er... you would probably prefer not to speak of it, of course. Mm, yes, of course," she says to the servant offering a bottle of red wine.

"Lady Katyana," Valerie says, breaking the silence before it has a chance to settle in too much, "Forgive me, but of all the cultures represented here in Elyssia, those of the mountains to the far northeast are for some reason among the least of our number. Tell us about your home, if you would... I do dearly love to hear of other places."

"I am afraid that little of my life has been spent at home," Katyana says. "What I remember most are the winters, for they are difficult to forget. So far to the north, the snow can blanket the ground from September through April, and the blizzards are both hard and cruel. But sometimes, when the ice falls through the night and the Sun breaks into a clear sky..."

A stunning change comes over Katyana's face in that moment, and in a heartbeat she is transformed from a woman of hardened steel. Her eyes sparkle with life, and a smile touches her lips which is all the more genuine for its subtlety.

"One sees the world as it would be if it were carved from gemstones," she continues. "Each evergreen with needles of emerald; the ground sparkles as a land of diamond dust. Sometimes the air is so clear and still that from a hilltop, one can see to the edge of the Earth. And if the wind has blown the fresh snow high into the sky, the Sun itself may split into three or even into five, with a glowing halo a thousand times as bright as any rainbow. Such times are few and far between, but in those moments the simple hills and fields of my home summon a dazzling beauty which may rival even the mountains which surround this great castle."

"Tell me, Lady Katyana," Bwana M'Kubwa says quietly. "Do these wondrous lands still exist, or did your father burn them and enslave all who lived there?"

Even Subhi looks taken aback at this remark. "Bwana, my friend, let us not speak of such things at King Xavier's table," he says in a low voice.

"I am truly sorry for the disrespect I show to you and your other guests, friend Xavier," Bwana says to you. "But I cannot pretend that what the Warlord did to my people, did not happen. I cannot pretend that my children were not taken, tortured, enslaved, and murdered. And if the Lady Katyana were only Velimir's daughter and nothing more, I could hold my tongue; children are not responsible for the actions of their parents. But she is also his captain, and his emissary, and as such she speaks for him. And so I ask you again, Katyana of Reznik: Did the Warlord treat his own home as he has treated the homes of so many others?"