Neria watched him go and waited until the click of the door to allow her shoulders to slump. He was just down the hall. The door would be open. When she finished, she would go back to him. Until then...

She was efficient, quick, as she moved about the room. She put the boxes away, taking great care with each. With that accomplished, she began to unwind her hair once more, looking for a brush. What Kell said stayed with her: to come as she was. She knew, as he did, that first impressions made all of the difference...and there was power in presenting one way over another. Neria wanted to look acceptable to the King and Queen, knowing this trip would be temporary - but also knowing that if she needed to return, until the doors were officially closed, she would want them to remember her well, and not to remember her as a problem.

Unconsciously, she reached for her throat for the first time in months. She had no pendant to show them, nothing to prove her authority. The elves had taken everything from her. She pressed her knuckles to her eyes for several moments, then gathered the energy to go sit at the boudoir, taking up the brush there to comb out her hair and re-tie it.

Why are they following you, Kell? You said it was as if you only left for moments; what are they afraid is going to happen?