Arrival Sunday 6 August 1564
Early morning August heat pressed into them as they appeared in the kitchen garden of King's College Provost Lodge. The heat itself felt less oppressive than the humidity under the pewter sky over Cambridge. He looked up at the roiling clouds, so different from the clear blue of Godric's Ford, Shropshire.
'Lovely,' Polaris Dubhe Black murmured. 'Rain.'
'No,' his wife Gwenhwyvar replied, 'not until after sunset.' He grinned, knowing better than to contradict his favorite weather witch.
'Even better,' he drawled sarcastically. 'We shall be obliged to enjoy this delightful mugginess until then.'
‘Good morrow, Master and Mistress Black,’ came a baritone voice as Sir William Cecil emerged from the door. ‘Welcome to King’s College. Her Majesty is presently engaged, however your audience is on her calendar for tomorrow. Do you have lodgings, or do you need assistance finding such?’
The Blacks exchanged a quick look, ‘We thank Her Majesty,’ said Gwenhwyvar, ‘and we will be lodging with Mistress Bones, who resides over on Market Square, along with the rest of our delegation.’
‘Very good, Mistress Black. Should I inquire of Master Malfoy if he is lodging with you as well?’ Sir William looked between the two, noting the very, very brief flash of surprise quickly schooled.
‘Lucius Malfoy is here?’ Polaris’ voice barely above a whisper. ‘No, Sir William, Malfoy will not be staying with us. He is not a part of our delegation; we notified you in our correspondence of the seven who are.’
Cecil nodded, slowly. ‘I thank you, Master Black. Her Majesty also wishes that I extend invitations to you and your delegation for this evening’s entertainment. It will be held in the Ante-chapel at the west end of the Chapel, as the College Hall is deemed too small for the occasion.’
Black bowed his head. ‘Please convey to Her Majesty our thanks and acceptance. We shall be there.’ They took their leave, and set off on the short walk to Gretchen Bones house on Market Square. Her youngest sister Susan showed them into the residence above the shop. Polaris nodded to their hostess, as well as to Phoebe and Valerius Longbottom, Rowan Rosier, and Isaac Weasley.
‘Good morrow to you all. First, in the event the news did not reach you yet, Cecil extended invitations to us all for the afternoon’s entertainment in the Chapel.’
‘It’s to be a play,’ said Gretchen. ‘They purchased some small items as properties for the story from me yesterday.’ The group nodded.
‘And secondly, he informed me Malfoy is here.’
‘Malfoy?’ asked Rosier, their face pensive. Polaris nodded. Rosier nodded. ‘I expect he is intending to submit his suite for Elizabeth’s hand, then.’
‘We shall need to watch for that,’ Isaac said quietly.
‘We,’ said Polaris softly, his hand waving to include Gwenhwyvar, ‘have an idea for that.’ The seven of them exchanged looks, and then nodded.
‘Pray continue,’ said Valerius.
‘Haddok,’ Polaris spoke, ‘please attend me.’ With a soft pop, an elderly, fish-faced House Elf appeared, quickly taking in the group. His left fingers ran through the circlet of greying hair beneath his bald head, then his bat-like ears flapped as he bowed to Polaris.
‘Master and Mistress, your luggage is unpacked.’
‘Thank you, Haddok. Now I need to know, which of you among the elves accompanying us would be best for some covert surveillance? Lucius Malfoy is here, and we believe he will be attempting to obtain Her Majesty's hand in marriage.’
Haddok rocked slightly on his feet, the loose cloth draped like a surcoat over his shoulders swaying around his knees. Then he nodded. ‘It should be The Youngster, Master. He is both the easiest to reassign, and is very good at his inconspicuousness.’ Polaris nodded to his house elf. ‘Youngster, please attend your Master.’ A barely noticeable pop heralded the arrival of the younger elf, bat-like ears a tad smaller than Haddok’s yet filled with hairs as black as those on his head. His loincloth gleamed whitely with silver trim as he bowed.
‘Master and Mistress summon the Youngster.’ His bullfrog voice filled the room.
Polaris chuckled, Rowen Rosier shaking their head with a smile. Isaac Weasley laughed softly, then sheepishly closed his lips. ‘Such a voice, and you say he is inconspicuous, Haddok.’
The Youngster turned to Polaris. ‘Youngster is indeed very good at not being seen, Master Polaris.’ Still as deep, yet now his voice carried barely audible. Polaris nodded.
Polaris looked to Gwenhwyvar, who smiled. ‘Oh, I’m completely content with this assignment, Polaris.’ She turned to the elf. ‘I’ve received some glowing comments about Youngster, here. He should be able to obtain the high ground for observation without being seen.’ The elf bowed to his mistress.
‘I need you to keep Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth under observation, Youngster,’ Polaris continued. ‘You are to observe, and report to me only about her interactions with Master Lucius Malfoy of Wiltshire. You may exercise your judgment to keep Her Majesty safe.’
The Youngster bowed deeply. ‘Youngster understands, Master.’
‘Do you know who Lucius Malfoy is, what he looks like, Youngster?’ Gwenhwyvar asked. The House Elf shook his head.
‘I’ve a thought about that,’ Gretchen Bones said. ‘We’re all invited to the play this afternoon. You may be certain Malfoy will attend as well, whether invited or no.’ Nods around the group indicated their agreement. ‘Polaris, if your Elf here is in a position to observe the group of us, you and the Longbottoms as couples, we can all nonchalantly form a five-pointed star around Malfoy long enough for Youngster to identify him.’
‘Well, then, Youngster. The Entertainment is to be in King’s Chapel. Find a place within that structure to be unobserved, yet to observe us as we enter and mark Wizard Malfoy. Let’s be about it, shall we.’ With a grin and a soft click of fingers, Youngster and Haddok disappeared.
Polaris turned, pausing at the sight of Phoebe Longbottom’s vacant face, the quill in her hand scrawling upon the parchment. Valerius’ wand tip tapped the sheet when she set the quill down, drying the ink and rolling the parchment closed. He picked it up, securing it to an inner pocket in his robes as he turned towards Black. He nodded once, lips forming ‘Later’ silently. Polaris nodded in reply.
Evening Entertainment, Sunday 6 August 1564
The lowering sun still warmed Heighe Strete as the group crossed, all of them glad they cast cooling charms upon themselves in their finery before departing Mistress Bones’ abode. Still, Polaris tugged lightly at the lace ruff around his neck, something he rarely wore at home in Godric’s Ford. Gwenhwyvar chuckled at him. ‘You should be wearing as many layers as do I, Husband.’
‘Merlin forbid, my dear, and you are the stronger of us for doing so,’ he replied, his free hand patting hers in the crook of his left arm. They bypassed the Provost Lodge, walking towards the Provost Entrance to the Chapel. ‘Did you perchance observe Phoebe this morning, after our elves departed,’ he murmured.
Gwenhwyvar glanced at him, then turned to nod greetings to students of the College acting as ushers. After receiving their directions, they started through the building towards the Ante-chapel. ‘You mean her scribing, then Valerius pocketing the scroll? He protects her. She is, after all, a Trelawney.’
‘One wonders, is all,’ Polaris said, quieting as Isaac Weasley joined them, his face colored by the early evening light through the stained glass windows rising far above their heads on either side.
‘And to think, the Muggles do this without magic.’ Weasley’s voice, soft with awe, carried no further than their ears.
‘There is magic of a sort, Isaac,’ replied Gwenhwyvar. ‘They are, many of them, inquisitive. Since they can not manipulate their world as we do, they investigate, and they find ways and means.’ Her free hand waved to either side. ‘The glass is lighter than the stone which encloses it, and the pillars without, called buttresses, support these walls. Rather ingenious, I should think.’
They traversed the Chapel, Isaac’s face and head swiveling owl-like to take in the grand Gothic building. Passing through a wood screen wall, both Polaris and Gwenhwyvar briefly caught sight of The Youngster, crouched gargoyle-like on a stone sconce three-quarters the height above the floor.
‘There,’ Rosier said quietly, and as the least-familiar to Lucius Malfoy strolled some six feet in front of him to become the point of the star. Gretchen Bones and the Longbottoms spread to left and right. The Blacks and Weasley, all three known to Malfoy for various reasons, took the last two points. Once in place, Gwenhwyvar glanced up to The Youngster. The House Elf blinked, once, and nodded, his eyes focused on Malfoy. Then he vanishing against the stone and stained glass around him. She turned to her husband.
‘Alea jacta est,’ she whispered, as Queen Elizabeth Tudor entered, taking her seat with the rest of the Privy Council. The Longbottoms joined the Blacks, breaking the star formation, and the two witches began conversing as Valerius calmly handed the scroll from his pocket to Polaris. He unrolled it and read quickly.
A Lord arises succumbing to Darkness
Marks his own bane one raised in starkness
Who by faith and by fortune inherits wee kreator
That guides to that end, then becomes a great tutor
Handing the scroll back to Valerius, it vanished as the wizard pocketed it inside his robes again. ‘What do you make of that, Master Polaris?’ Valerius soft voice was lost quickly in the expanse and noise around them.
‘As prophecies go,’ replied Polaris, voice matching, ‘vague as always. No offense, Mistress Longbottom,’ Polaris replied. Phoebe Longbottom chuckled.
‘No offense taken, Polaris. And as prophecies go, I’ve no recollection of writing it, as usual.’ Her head tilted towards Malfoy. ‘Yet, do you think it may bear on our endeavours here?’
Polaris watched from the corners of his eyes as Malfoy slowly strolled past Rosier, towards the seated Queen. ‘We shall need to wait and see, Phoebe.’ He turned to face her fully. ‘I see no reason to change our plans, including those that hopefully will safeguard Her Majesty.’
Confrontation Monday Forenoon 7 August 1564
The Blacks chose to walk from Gretchen Bones’ shop and dwelling to aid digesting the excellent early luncheon she’d served. Their afternoon today would be filled by their requested audience with Elizabeth Tudor. Gretchen sent Isaac Weasley off with the Blacks, tut-tutting when he offered to help with the post-luncheon cleanup. ‘Go, Isaac, my elf Inslay is fully capable of the cleanup, particularly with Haddok’s assistance. We,’ she waved to include the Longbottoms and Rosier, ‘will be along shortly behind you. I’ve an important customer to meet, won’t be a half-hour though.’
Isaac regarded the cross in Market Warde. ‘Quite remarkable, don’t you think, that the Muggles create monuments to a man who lived some fifteen-hundred years ago,’ he said.
Gwenhwyvar chuckled. ‘Do you not use Merlin’s name when exclaiming about a stubbed toe, Isaac? He, too, lived some fifteen-hundred years ago.’ Isaac regarded her as they left the Warde, entering St. Marie’s Lane, bemused.
‘Point taken, Mistress Black.’
‘Oh, don’t be so formal just now, Isaac. We’ll be enough of that this afternoon,’ she replied. Heighe Strete opened before them, and they turned left into the busy traffic, angling across the road to the east and back gate into the Provost Lodge grounds. They passed through the small gatehouse upon admittance, into the south garden. A young man, obviously dressed in his finest, greeted them inside the yard. ‘Good morrow, mi’lords and mi’lady. I am Robert Smithson, and will guide you the short way to where you may wait your audience.’
‘You are a member of the Queen’s party,’ Isaac asked, his curiosity regarding Muggles rising.
Smithson chuckled. ‘No, mi’lord. I am a Pensioner Student here at King’s College; today’s duties are part of my wages to study here. If you will…’ He pointed to his left, towards a covered porch with a wide opening to the yard. They followed. ‘This porch opens to the Lodge’s dining hall, where Her Majesty will see you when she concludes her business with Lord Malfoy.’
The three exchanged glances as they stepped up and into the shade of the covered porch. A stairs to their right led up to the room over the porch; benches provided seating. ‘Thank you, Robert Smithson. I presume the door will open when we are to be admitted,’ Polaris said, pointing to the door on his left.
‘Indeed, mi’lord, and good day.’ They waited for Smithson to depart back to the inner door to the yard. Gwenhwyvar and Isaac approached the door to the dining hall, stopping a yard away. Gwenhwyvar’s hand rose, fingers spread, as she reached forward gently.
‘Warded,’ she murmured, as Isaac copied her movements. ‘Only an Imperturbable, I reckon.’
‘I agree,’ Isaac said.
‘Well, then.’ Polaris smiled, strolling to the door and turning his back to it as he leaned on the wall, gazing out over the yard. His right fingertips pressed lightly to the wood of the door, forehead creasing briefly in concentration.
‘What are you doing, Polaris?’ Isaac turned to Gwenhwyvar’s chuckle.
‘He’s listening, Isaac. It’s a counter-charm he’s developed to Imperturbable, though it requires touching the door so charmed. Then the sound from the other side is transmitted through his bones to his ears.’ She smiled to him. ‘We shall teach you that, later. It’s quite useful betimes.’ Then she joined her husband, her own right arm rising as if to wrap around his waist behind his back, fingertips resting on the door. Her head bobbing sideways at Isaac beckoned him closer.
‘“Ma'am, I urge you to consider. A union between our families will be a most powerful barrier to those who object to your courting a foreign prince.”’ Gwenhwyvar murmured. Isaac’s eyes widened, and she tilted her head towards the dining hall, winking.
‘“As may be, Master Malfoy, however We must keep the possibility of such alliances at least a feasible hope for both Spain and France.” Footsteps, likely his based on their weight. “But Elizabeth, your recent bout with the pox created such anxiety, you must take me as husband and birth an heir.”’ Gwenhwyvar’s eyes widened. ‘She has taken a very deep breath. “Be most thoughtful in your consideration of that word, when speaking with monarchs, Master Malfoy. It is a word to be avoided.” He has taken a step back from her. “I meant no offense, Ma'am.” More silence. Ah!’ She chuckled. ‘“I’ve said before, Master Malfoy, one Mistress in my House, and no Master.” Oh, my, such a thick silence.’
Polaris’ left hand pulled his wand from under his doublet, folding it up along his arm out of site to the yard. ‘Footsteps,’ Gwenhwyvar murmured, ‘hers, receding to the other end of the dining room. She turns back, more silence.’ She nodded. ‘“This audience is over. You are dismissed, Malfoy.” She leaves the room.’ Both Black’s eyes widened. ‘“No one dismisses me, thou whoreson zed.”’
Polaris’ wand tapped and the door burst open. Gwenhwyvar and Isaac followed him in, seeing Malfoy’s wand whipping through a curse before him at Elizabeth’s back through the door opposite. A red flash lit the room. Youngster appeared in the opposite door, raising his right hand and forming a mirrored oval between him and the oncoming curse. He stepped forward, left waving, and Malfoy’s wand flew from his hand to clatter to the floor by the dining table. The curse struck the mirror and ricocheted into the ceiling.
‘Thou finical jackanape,’ Malfoy growled loudly. ‘Thou rampallian!’ A second wand appeared in his hand, the tip flipping with a zigzag toward the elf.
Polaris waved his wand with a soft ‘Protego’, but the ward appeared slightly too late, Youngster tumbling head over heels backwards into the dining room wall with a crash.
Gwenhwyvar’s wand snapped through a wave and Malfoy’s second wand flew towards her; with the eye and hand of a professional Seeker she snatched it from the air as Malfoy tumbled to the side. Isaac looked between the fallen wizard, staggering back to his feet, and the elf rising on the opposite side of the room. Blood streamed from the elf’s squashed nose as Youngster stood, inside the Protego charm his master cast.
‘I will thank you, Malfoy,’ Polaris said quietly, ‘to not be injuring my servant.’
‘Your servant, loathsome cumberground creature that it is, disarmed a wizard and should be executed,’ Malfoy spat back.
‘As may be, yet he is mine, and as such whatever punishment may be deserved will be decreed by myself, and not by you.’
Gwenhwyvar’s wand flashed again, and the wand on the floor flew to her hands as well. Looking straight into Malfoy’s eyes, she flicked it. ‘Priori Incantatum.’ Isaac’s eyes widened at the vile greenish-black mist that wafted from the tip of Malfoy’s wand. ‘Rather an unusual spell to use on a male of any species, Malfoy,’ she said. ‘Fecioară sterilă, I believe. Something acquired from one of your friends at Durmstrang, perhaps?’
Polaris smiled coldly. ‘Were I you, Malfoy, after so blatantly violating the principles of Hospitality I should make myself scarce. Perhaps with time these offenses will flow down the River Cam and be lost to the sea.’
Malfoy reached out. ‘I would have my wands back first.’
Isaac Weasley raised his own wand. ‘Allow me, please.’ He levitated Malfoy’s wands from Gwenhwyvar, to float before him. Then with a smile towards Malfoy and a flourish of his wand, they vanished. Malfoy cursed under his breath. ‘One mile downstream from the bridge which gives this city its name is a hollow ash, thrice struck by lightning. Thou will find thy wands there. But thou should not dawdle, for the NoticeMeNot will fade when St. Marie’s bell tolls Nones.’
Malfoy glared at Weasley. Gretchen, Rowan, and the Longbottoms entered, looking around at the group in the room. As Rowan and the Longbottoms reached for their wands, Malfoy forged out the door to the porch, jostling them aside as he passed.
‘Where is he off to?’ Valerius waved out the window at the retreating figure of the departing wizard.
‘Oh, he’s off on a quest,’ replied Isaac, with a laugh, ‘hopefully to the north, though a part of his quest is dependent on him choosing the correct bridge.’
Royal Audience Monday 7 August 1564
Both Blacks turned to Youngster, blood still streaming down his face from the now squished nose. Polaris’ wand waved, with a whispered ‘Episkey’ staunching the flow.
Elizabeth appeared in the doorway from the anteroom, looking around at the group. ‘What is the meaning of this, Master Black. And before you begin your reply, know that We witnessed a part of this, including your servant being injured.’
The witches and wizards bowed to their monarch, Youngster following their lead, then straightened. Gwenhwyvar moved to Youngster’s side and began cleaning his face. Polaris gestured around them.
‘A simple disagreement between Master Malfoy and myself, Ma'am,’ he said. ‘He took exception to … something my servant did. He expressed an intent to bring the matter of judgment and execution to Your Majesty.’
‘You mean this one?’ Polaris nodded. ‘Malfoy expected Us to render a judgment on this matter? We do not claim these wee Brownies as Our subjects, Master Black. They are of the Fae, and wise men would remember not to antagonize the Fae.’ Elizabeth regarded Youngster, who stood straighter. ‘What is your name?’
‘Youngster, Ma'am.’
Elizabeth’s eyebrows rose as she looked at Gwenhwyvar. ‘Curious names your servants use, Mistress Black.’
Both Gwenhwyvar and Polaris chuckled. ‘It is all due to my Great Aunt Endora Black, Ma'am. In her dotage, she could not remember the names of the newest Elves, and took to calling them all Youngster. The Elves, rather than disrespect an elder, decided among themselves to leave their given names behind when they began to serve, and be known as Youngster. At least until some event or other feature determined a proper Name.’
Elizabeth shook her head, a perplexed look on her face. ‘One would imagine that could become confusing.’
Gwenhwyvar: ‘Oh, it does, Ma'am. It does.’
Turning back to Gwenhwyvar, Elizabeth focused, face becoming formal. ‘And what was it that Master Malfoy’s wand informed you about, Mistress Black. I did not recognize the language you quoted, though I speak many quite fluently. And I doubt it concerned your male servant here.’
Hesitating briefly to sort her thoughts, Gwenhwyvar replied, ‘It was Romanian, Ma'am. And he intended that Your Majesty should remain unmarried and childless.’
Elizabeth laughed, her head tossing back, then shaking slowly. ‘Truly he is hoist by his own petard, for long ago I vowed I should never wed any man. Indeed, I told Sir William, “Observe, I am married, to England.”’ She chuckled loudly. ‘He was most discomfited by that declaration when I showed him the finger and hand upon which I wear the coronation ring.’ She walked to the end of the dining table, pulling the chair back, and Polaris moved to assist her sitting. ‘Enough about Malfoy. I believe you wished to present a petition of some sort for Our consideration.’
Polaris stepped back, bowing again and leading the contingent to do the same. ‘Indeed, Your Majesty, we represent your loyal subjects with magical abilities,’ he stated, rising. ‘We are becoming very concerned with the level of violence, persecution even, which both factions of Christendom in England are beginning to show towards us.’
‘There are trials, and burnings, around the nation, of people accused of witchcraft and wizardry,’ Gwenhwyvar added.
‘Indeed, Ma'am,’ said Phoebe Longbottom, ‘many of these people are in fact not even witches or wizards. They are ordinary people caught up by others jealous of their standing or property, looking for a means to seize such.’
Valerius stepped forward. ‘We, and most of your loyal wizarding subjects, use our abilities and skills to help our communities. We ask for nothing in return but to be left to our own purposes, as other subjects are.’
‘In what ways do you mean, Master Longbottom, “use our abilities and skills to help our communities”? What values do you bring?’ Elizabeth sat back in her chair.
‘We brew potions as medicines to ease the ill, Ma'am,’ Rosier responded.
‘We help protect those transporting merchandise about the kingdom,’ Isaac added, ‘as well as other innocents.’
Gretchen stepped forward. ‘We sell our wares at fair prices, and include other wares as part of our inventory where needed,’ she said.
Elizabeth’s eyes moved from one to another. ‘And how do you protect these other innocents?’
‘This we know, Ma'am, as an example,’ Polaris took up the cause. ‘There are creatures that feed on the essence of a human, that which is within our bodies that makes us uniquely who we are. Muggles name these Dementors demons, and are not wrong.’ He stood back a step. ‘They leave behind a husk of who had been there before, breathing, but no longer truly alive. But your weapons, all of your weapons, are useless against them. What the different religious sects claim to do to exorcise these “Demons” is as useless. We are capable of fighting them, driving them away.’
‘There are other beasts as well, Ma'am,’ added Rowan, ‘many of whom would prey on humanity if not otherwise supervised and guided away from them.’
Elizabeth continued to look from one to another, eyes pursed in thought. ‘I’ve held for some time, a man should be free to worship as he chooses.’
‘Men and women,’ Gwenhwyvar said. ‘To worship, to study, to gain knowledge, to love who they will as they will. To be who and as they are. To say, as you are able to, one Mistress, or one Master, or none if so desired.’
Elizabeth nodded slowly. ‘You, Master Weasley, is this how you feel?’
Isaac smiled widely. ‘Aye, Ma'am. As a younger son, in particular, I must make my own way through this world. Gretchen, Mistress Bones, and I are planning to combine our estates to our mutual advantage. In this, then, I suppose we shall have both a Mistress and a Master of the house, as do our friends the Blacks, and the Longbottoms.’
The Queen chuckled, turning to the wizard now standing next to Isaac Weasley. ‘And you, Master Rosier?’
Rosier smiled. ‘Ah, your Majesty, one needs most politely to correct the Crown. Within my House there is no Mistress. Indeed, nor is there a Master. I prefer the term we use at our school, Head of Household; and I, at least, am unlikely to wed anyone. I do not see myself in that manner.’
Elizabeth’s head rocked back, her eyes unfocusing in thought as she pondered this. After a few minutes, she turned to Gwenhwyvar. ‘We may be able to deliver on some of this, Mistress Black, but We are unsure if England is quite ready for all of that. As you know, We are not immune to some of these accusations; Our mother was accused of witchcraft.’
Gwenhwyvar shook her head sadly. ‘Your mother did not bewitch your father, Ma'am. Henry besotted himself of her quite sufficiently without such aid.’
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. ‘You knew my mother?’
Gwenhwyvar shook her head again. ‘Not I, your Majesty. But my oldest sister well knew your paternal grandmother.’ Elizabeth looked at Polaris.
‘Nor I. We knew your father, aye,’ he answered the silent question, ‘but were not at court during your mother’s years.’
Elizabeth gestured, left hand waving away the past, then turned to Youngster, noting the dried blood still on his face beneath his squashed nose. ‘Malfoy handled you most barbarously, wee Brownie, both in word and action. We would be pleased to offer the services of our Healers for your physical injury. As to his words, We’ve often found it useful to take such slanderous statements, and adapt them to Our benefit.’
The young elf looked into the Queen’s dark brown eyes, her thin lips curling slightly at the corners, high cheekbones framing a nose hooked in the middle, so unlike his own now squashed nose. He began measuring the Colours swirling around her. Then he bowed low. ‘Your advice is wise and appreciated, with thanks Ma'am. As for this,’ he waved at his face, ‘a wound earned in service to the Ancient and Noble House of Black. Kreacher will keep it.’
Black nodded slowly. ‘Kreacher, is it then. Very good.’ He turned to the Queen. ‘Will it pleasure Your Majesty if, with your permission, Kreacher continues his guardianship while you are here?’
Elizabeth regarded the diminutive elf. ‘Only if, after my ladies in waiting retire for the evening, Kreacher will join me in some various discussions. We should enjoy learning more about the Brownies.’
Kreacher looked to his Master and Mistress Black, who both nodded. He turned back to Elizabeth. ‘Kreacher will enjoy conversing with Ma'am.’
Elizabeth leaned closer to Gwenhwyvar, whispering, ‘Do they always speak thusly about themselves?’
‘Yes, Ma'am, they do.’