Ralph and the Pixie

‘In turn, because you now accompany Ralph, he has the right to uphold your title, regardless of the fact that you are now back within Elven jurisdiction.

‘Such a title, Malina, is yours for life, unless revoked by your peers; an occurrance which, under the present circumstances, I deem unlikely.’

She fidgeted, wanting an end to this conversation, wishing she could either escape the cavalcade or bury herself in Rowf’s protective embrace.

‘What will I have to do?’ she muttered, thinking of formal behaviour she had witnessed on a number of occasions, having found it unnatural, stiflingly stilted and rigid, frightening and incomprehensible.

‘Hopefully nothing,’ Pran told her. ‘Something unforseen may come up, but as yet I can think of nothing.’

She frowned. ‘So, that is all there is to it? That I am an Emissary of Faeriekind, who has visited another world, and that is my title, so I will be left alone?’ She said this slowly, as though memorizing, trying to keep things straight in her mind. The truth, however, was that she looked for hidden traps or flaws in these words.

‘Hopefully, yes,’ Pran replied.

Pran watched her for some sign, but she stared ahead unseeingly, considering. After some time, it occurred to him that she didn’t seem to realise that she had a choice in the matter. He was about to mention this to her but stopped himself, realising that doing so might only serve to confuse the matter in her mind, or weaken her resolve. With a nod to Ralph, he left to rejoin his wife and children.