Within thirty minutes the Fey Court had assembled. Tristan sat at the head of the table, with Felicity perched atop his chair's back, her long tail dangling down next to his head and occasionally flicking into his ear to his minor irritation. The Matriarch sat to his left, with Dorothy next to her, and Krik seated next along that side. Prish stood at the far end, the table's length on that side accommodating his horse shape. To Tristan's right was Thallia, then Dorni, and Grandfather Hurvun.

Thallia spoke once all had settled and the doors shut. "Lord Tristan has informed me of several developments…" she spent the next five minutes providing the same information Tristan had told her, but in a much more elegant and streamlined fashion. Tristan was quite impressed with her ability to take his somewhat scattered informing events and consolidate them in such a proficient manner. She concluded with, "…I believe it is prudent to consider our role in the affairs of other realms more closely. Hence this meeting." She sat and glanced to Tristan.

He took that as a cue to speak, and cleared his throat before starting. "I do not want to overtly involve the Fey Realm in affairs of other realms. I don't seek isolation, and I do not want to do what my forebear did. Zeltana was a warmonger – I will not be that." He glanced across the table's occupants. "Thallia has suggested that you all should have some input and provide some insight. I am here to listen. My mind is open, and my ears are keen." He looked to The Matriarch. "You first."

She put a hand to her chin and stared at the table for a few seconds, her face inscrutable. When she spoke, it was with a comforting, almost motherly tone. "You have done well thus far in your decision-making for the realm. My instinct is to trust your instincts. Finish your business in the Demon Realm, unseal the remainder of the Fey Realm, and attend to matters here at home. Better to not be involved with other realms outside of desired trade and relations. To that note, specifically, I've been . . . well, I have found a romantic interest with another Realm Protector."

At that everyone perked up slightly in surprise, with Thallia exclaiming, "What?!" in an enthusiastic, gossip-monger way.

The Matriarch nodded. "I cannot leave this place, and those in my relative tier of power and longevity find difficulty in finding equal partners." She grinned and looked at Tristan with a beaming face. "Logos and I have begun an excellent relationship."

Tristan felt very happy for her, and put a hand on hers. "Good for you. But Realm Protectors cannot leave their realm."

"True. But he and I have spent quite a long amount of time in my mind, as when I fall into deep thought or meditate near the astrologer's glass, he can visit." She smiled softly. "We have a close ally who guards the knowledge of all creatures. He has promised to warn me of threats to the Fey Realm, as long as it does not compromise his role and position."

"Fortuitous," Krik replied. "You have acquired the ultimate asset in intelligence gathering."

The Matriarch leaned back in her chair and twiddled with her thumbs. "Anyways…that is beside the point. Pursuing relations with realms we want to grow closer to is going to be valuable. But I believe in isolation and a homeward focus, rather than getting involved in affairs elsewhere." Her voice was calm and resolute, but there was an underlying sense of eagerness there.

"Thank you for your insight," Tristan replied. "Dorothy? You're next."

The Sheepkin Demihuman rubbed her temples as if massaging away a headache. "I believe that we should foster relations as widely as possible. Make the Fey Realm a haven for the wayward, or those who have no place to belong. Strengthen who we are. To use an analogy, the species here in the Fey Realm are like several threads. But they are all the same hues. Other species, other heritages, they would bring other colors of thread into this place. We could weave a tapestry of creativity, ingenuity, and welcoming here. Again, using that analogy." She lowered her hands and looked at Tristan with a soft gaze. "We should open wide the gates once the Demon Realm threat is dealt with."

"I appreciate your openness," Tristan said. But I really don't agree with you. "Krik?" he asked.

The Spriggan warmaster stood up, clasped his hands behind his back as the wooden pauldrons built into his form creaked and groaned like boughs swaying in a heavy tempest. "Lord Tristan, I have pushed for a defensive strategy, and I still do. I am in agreement with The Matriarch. We should focus on fortifying our domain, and then slowly expand – only into Lost Realms as per your desires. Creation of new species can add to this "tapestry" to use Dorothy's analogy." He dipped his head to the Sheepkin who was tiny compared to his massive bulk. "If necessary, though, our forces must stand ready to sally forth and destroy those who might threaten us." He sat back down.

Tristan pondered the last of what he said. There is a possibility that future threats will arise, and we will need to go out and deal with them. But not as conquerors, never that. Peacekeepers, perhaps. He kept his lips taut and inclined his chin to Krik. "Your tactical mindset is much appreciated." He shifted his gaze to Prish. "Your turn."

The Unicorn huffed. "Cultural exposure is important if we are to prevent stagnation. The ground racing beneath our hooves- erm, sorry, feet for all of you. The wind blowing through our manes. Once the Demon Realm threat is dealt with, we should focus not on expansion, or isolation, but rather exploration. Let your groups of envoys with a small excursion force map out new places." He nudged his head toward Krik, and then The Matriarch. "We gradually expand the Fey Realm by grafting Lost Realms."

Tristan dipped his head in a slight bow. "Thank you for your part. Grandfather?"

Hurvun cleared his throat and spoke with his gruff voice. "You lot are talking about bigger picture. Tristan wanted advice on the more immediate affairs – this double crossing a Demon Lord to give the Mortal Realm and this Empire of Dorcelli a better chance at dominating everything." He shifted his gaze to Tristan and their eyes locked. His tone was firm, and while not commanding, definitely reminded Tristan of his grandfather's lessons. "A Demon consolidating control over The Mortal Realm through a proxy ruler means that eventually, maybe in millennia long after I'm in the ground, they will gain strength and unity enough to want to invade other realms. You don't want to, son, I understand. But most rulers do not have your temperament. They are arrogant bastards through and through."

He coughed for a moment, leaning forward, and Tristan almost made to get up and help him, but his grandfather instead grabbed a cup of clearcool and slurped it down. "Now," he said wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "I think that double-crossing a Demon is just fine. Make sure that this empress doesn't have an eternal empire existing after her death. Every ruler dies given time, and her kingdoms will fracture and crack. When that happens, well, you need not fear the Mortal Realm being allied in purpose and unified in a conquest of all other realms. You want safety for the Fey Realm? Go forth with your plan. Warn this empress. I would say, in this whole Demon Realm business, you should try and set up a different Demon Lord as the new Realm Protector. Someone who is more like your temperament."

Hurvun sat down and Tristan carefully pondered his words before replying. "I have only met two of the Demon Lords that rule the Houses thus far. Debera Dalphatroux seems like she would be willing to work with other realms, and Clova Parslile is out of the question. Philippe Tousles appears to have a soft spot for those of other heritages – he might be a better fit once I get the measure of him. I doubt that Stramal Alphinaud as a military-focused man would be like Krik, here, and focus on strengthening defenses." He shifted his gaze over to Krik as he mentioned this, then brought his eyes back to his grandfather, who was staring back intently. "I won't know how much pull I have in the whole process until the Demon King Duberceix lies dead. The Demon Houses will vote on a successor, or descend to infighting to determine the next ruler."

Hurvun replied. "Why not let them?"

"The two Demon Houses that have military power are the most likely to take the throne in a full-on fight. I would normally say that the essence-weaver Parslile house would be in contest, but their numbers were decimated by what I saved them from. A military-focused Realm Protector? That will lead to conflict." Tristan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut. Letting go, he looked at Dorni. "Your thoughts?"

The Gnome, inscrutable and with a stony face, cracked a grin. "I am satisfied with what we are currently doing. The Seasonal market could use an increase in frequency. Other than that? Speaking specifically to this whole Demon Realm and warning this empress business? Just do what you plan on doing. Sounds reasonable to me. Plus, you can leverage your warning for favors." He shrugged. "Not sure what type of favors would be of use…maybe get a bit of revenge on Bhant once her empire conquers it?"

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Tristan initially bristled at the idea. He was not a vengeful person by nature, and despite how the Kingdom of Bhant treated him once his heritage manifested, he did not have any ill will toward anyone there. Except for Gisele. His sister who pinned dozens of deaths on him. Thinking of her being cast down from nobility gave him a grim sense of delight and satisfaction. But she was with child and doubtless has given birth to them by now. They did nothing to wrong me. Hurting her would hurt them. And they are my nieces and nephews. If anything, I would want to expose her, and them, to the wonders of the Fey Realm. Try and convince Gisele to drop her bigotry. Maybe try and get things back toward how they were before I became a half-breed. When we got along. He had a lot of good memories where he, Bertram, and Gisele would play together. It wasn't until his heritage came to the forefront that she shunned him, and he pranked her with Bertram as a way to get back at her.

"Thank you for your feedback," Tristan said. "Thallia? You're last. What say you?"

She looked somewhat exasperated as she looked at The Matriarch, then Krik, and finally Tristan. "The diplomatic corps of envoys you have put me in charge of have been making steady progress in diplomatic relations. I'm aligned with Dorothy; we should foster relations with other realms and be more open. One part I disagree with, however, is this idea of having Humans or Demihumans in charge of the Mortal Realm. Why should the Demon Realm get a claim through marriage?" She gestured to Tristan. "You're the Lord of the Fey Realm. This Empress seeks to rule the whole Mortal Realm. If anything, you should be taking her hand in a diplomatic marriage. Tie together the power of the largest and most populous Realm with the whimsy and wonder of the Fey Realm. Make us strong. Strong enough that we will resist any attempt from another realm to curtail our power and reach."

Felicity's tail, dangling loosely next to Tristan with the occasional flick, curled around his ear in a near-possessive grip. "Hey! I told you, watery tart, Tristan's mine!"

Thallia's face grew taut and the lines of her lips dipped into a subtle frown. "Lord Tristan…I know you and Felicity are lovers…but consider it. An alliance cemented through marriage, and with a long-lived ruler at the helm. You don't even have to live there! Just marry the empress, give her a child of your bloodline, and then provide logistical and military support while the child is advised by your chosen servants."

Tristan wanted to curse at Thallia, stand up, and throw her out of the room. But he did not. Instead, he took in a deep breath and reached a hand up to scratch Felicity's side. He could feel how tense she was under his hand, and he tried to convey through his touch that he would not go with Thallia's plan. But, the more he thought on what the nymph said, and the words lingered in his ears, the more it made sense to him; seeming to tap into his base sense of altruism blended with the greed of the dragon crucibles that had slightly altered his drive. I could improve the lives of every single person across the Mortal Realm. If the Empire of Dorcelli ruled the whole world, they would fall apart once Empress Naomi dies. Fall to infighting. But with someone who has Elf heritage on the throne? That would ensure a long, prosperous line of rulers. A stable empire that could last for millennia, with a strong ally in the Fey Realm.

He felt Felicity's breath calm under his hand, and he felt in his soul that the idea was wrong. No…I love Felicity. I won't betray her trust and love for me because of a lust for power and desire to help people. The Fey Realm is my domain. I've earned it at this point. I haven't earned the right to rule the Mortal Realm. Let Humans and Demihumans have their place…I will continue forth with my plan. "I appreciate your idea," Tristan began. "But I will not pursue the plan you propose." Thallia made to interject, but Tristan held up his hand for silence. "We move forth with the plans that were already underway. We bring the Elves back home, if they want to return. We will continue diplomatic relations via your envoys, Thallia. Once this Demon Realm business is concluded, I will unseal the rest of the Fey Realm, and we will begin to search for Lost Realms to graft. And as for this whole empress business…I have an idea."

Everyone seemed to lean in at that, except Hurvun, who cracked a smile, as if anticipating what Tristan was going to propose. Tristan spoke firmly. "We'll warn the empress as I had planned. Felicity? Mind taking on my appearance really quick?"

She flapped off the chair, shifted to her Elfanoid form, and then her body warbled before them. She was an identical duplicate of Tristan, and even spoke in his voice. "Like this?"

Tristan nodded and gestured, "All we need is a fairy dragon – not Felicity, of course – but one who can perfectly mimic me. Or, perhaps, my brother." He looked to Thallia. "We can do as you proposed…only it won't be me. It will be a fairy dragon, disguised as the brother to Tristan Winterbloom, who could not inherit the Fey Realm. Still, second in line to an entire realm would make for an excellent spouse, would it not?"

Hurvun let out a cackle, The Matriarch snickered, Dorothy gasped, Krik made no noise, Prish whinnied in amusement, Dorni chuckled, and Thallia clapped her hands in delight. The Matriarch was the first to break the sudden joviality. "Lord Tristan…that is quite duplicitous."

"This is the Fey Realm. Being tricky is in our blood. It's in my blood." Tristan looked at his grandfather and grinned. "Remember all those pranks I pulled with Bertram when my heritage manifested? I always blamed him for coming up with the ideas to avoid worse punishment from Fawkes…but I was the mastermind behind most of it."

Grandfather Hurvun let out a deep, hearty laugh, coughing toward the end and slurping down more clearcool. "I remember. The pie incident still makes me chortle."

Felicity shifted back to her Elfanoid form and leaned on Tristan's chair, a hand tracing down to his shoulder and gently clasping it. He moved his left hand up to hold hers. Tristan spoke. "In this way, we not only thwart the Parslile Demon House's plans I proposed, but we also put a spy right next to the empress, who is unwaveringly loyal to me. My designs in the Demon Realm advance, and we can influence events in the Mortal Realm for our gain. And, we have plausible deniability for any accusations of underhanded ploys."

Thallia replied, "I fully support this plan. Should I interview prospective fairy dragons?"

"Yes," Tristan replied. "I've made my decision."

"What of an heir?" Krik followed up. "Fairy dragons cannot reproduce."

Tristan looked at Thallia, "What do we know of the empire's practices? Do they have concubines or the like?"

"The ruling class do occasionally keep harems," Thallia replied.

"Then we don't need to concern ourselves with that," Tristan said. "She will have other children, and the wise "Winterbloom" fairy dragon will be an eternal counselor for the empress' heir. We can guide the Mortal Realm without controlling it like the Parslile House would doubtless do."

Dorothy stood up and spoke with a shaking, angry tone. "I cannot condone this action."

Tristan frowned, "You do not need to condone it. This is my Realm. I make the decisions, and my decision is final." He softened his tone but kept the frown on his face. "I appreciate you for your service, and hope you continue to serve in your role here on the Fey Court. But I do not need you to condone my actions – simply live with them…and not undermine them." The last he said with a tinge of threat in his voice, knowing that she and his grandfather were the only two people in that room who could defy him if they chose. The rest would bow to his will if he demanded it, and while he did not want to exercise his authority in that manner, it was an option he did not have towards the new residents.

Dorothy bowed at her waist, "I am too old for this, Lord Tristan. I seek to weave and nothing more. I don't want anything to do with the Fey Court going in this direction. If it is acceptable, I resign."

"I accept your resignation," Tristan stated. He turned to The Matriarch. "Gather the permanent residents. They will elect a new representative to take Dorothy's place." He swapped to Elvish, "And assign a fairy dragon to Dorothy. They are to keep an eye on her, and at the slightest indication of treachery, subdue her until I can return to deal with it." He hated the idea of needing to spy on his realm's citizens, but if Dorothy chose to leave and word of Tristan's plans were to work their way to the empress seeking to rule the Mortal Realm, that would ruin his plan.

"It shall be done," The Matriarch replied in the same tongue.

Tristan stood up and wrapped an arm around Felicity's waist, swapping to the Standard Tongue. "Then if there is nothing else?" He paused in case anyone had something to say. "This meeting of the Fey Court is adjourned. You have your tasks and duties."

Dorothy was the first one out of the room, leaving in a huff. Thallia, Grandfather Hurvun, Dorni, and then Prish all left next. The Matriarch led the rear, and as Tristan was going to the door with Felicity, Krik rumbled out. "May we talk, father of the forest?"

Tristan gestured for Felicity to close the doors, so it would just be the three of them. "Of course, Krik. You have my ear and attention."

The spriggan came around the table and stood, towering over Tristan. "I support your plan, but would insist that you allow one of my species to be this "brother Winterbloom's" bodyguard. More than one, if possible."

"Of course," Tristan replied. "I plan on having a realmwalking spell placed on an artificed item for this fairy dragon to be selected, that they may return here in an emergency."

"I would advise against that," Krik replied. "Artificed items can be stolen and used. Realmwalking is too risky. Teleportation to the Citadel of Essence instead would be a good backup plan."

"I…see the wisdom in that," Tristan replied. "Very well. Choose or have one of your kin volunteer – or multiple, if you see fit. We will outfit them with similar artificed items. Our contacts at the Citadel can do it; just coordinate with Dorni and Thallia."

Krik grabbed his chest and pulled the two, armored, wooden plates aside – the moss and flowers crisscrossing the piece stretching to accommodate the maneuver. Inside the torso cavity was a small, thrumming node of roots. "We can place the items inside our bodies, to prevent theft. But even if the items were stolen, if they are limited to teleporting to the Citadel of Essence, access to the Fey Realm can be prevented and regulated along with the regular visitors."

"You are truly a tactician," Tristan said with a smile as Krik closed his chest plate. "We will do as you advise. Go with my blessing."

Krik bowed, then straightened, reaching his arm over Tristan and Felicity to open the door. "Father of the forest, Lady Felicity…"

Felicity grabbed Tristan's hand and pulled him out of the room. "Lady Felicity," she said in his ear with a giggle.

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