"Your Highness," Janus pleaded desperately. "Caesar has prepared a welcoming ceremony and State dinner in your honor." He had tried everything he could to get me to follow him, even the idiot that had been watching from outside the room had become concerned and made an effort to apologize and entice me to leave.

I refused. I refused to be swayed by the growing fear that Janus was radiating. He was a pawn in a game of thrones, and if history was anything to go on, this encounter would spell his doom. The Olympians did not deal well when their plans were stymied.

I had made myself clear, I would only leave the Portal Authority and allow myself to be escorted to Caesar's Palace when I had a detail of guards, led by someone of significant rank or position. I was a visiting Ranked: Princess, and Caesar's obvious insult by sending a messenger as an escort would be answered. I made that obvious when I had Lord Aesin remove a table, chair, dining plates, and utensils from his spatial storage so that those that had accompanied me could sit.

I made a show of being solicitous and concerned with the care of Grandmaster Elba, a Goblin woman as old as time. She maintained the youthful appearance of all Sidhe, but her aura and presence gave those near her the same feeling of awe and wonderment that canyons formed by erosion might cause. Simply being in her presence, one could tell that she had seen much and lived her life fully.

She refused to become obsolete, or fade away, dealing with Seelie and Unseelie bigotries with equal aplomb. She spent the millions of years that she had lived enjoying the joy in creation. Hers was the needle that clothed Monarchs, set fashion trends, and guaranteed a young debutante making her debut in Court would find success.

She was always searching, learning, and creating new techniques and methods that elevated the skills of a simple seamstress to a Masterclass craftsman. Gifted with needle-work, her ability to embroider enchantments into clothing elevated the garments she created from simply clothing to legendary artifacts. She was known as the pre-eminent tailor on Talahm. A designation that she had earned and deserved.

Her artistry with cross-stitch tapestry or embroidered banners was vivid, lifelike, and could stimulate an emotional response from those that had the privilege of owning or seeing a piece publicly displayed. Some of her works were so powerful they had to be displayed beyond an array the protected the audience, an array that shaped and confined the emotions the images evoked.

It took her decades to complete a piece of work. But when you considered she spun, corded, dyed, and imbued the tread she used, as well as the fabric that served as a backdrop, you understood the methodical nature and care she demanded when creating each piece.

Her most famous canvas was entitled 'Sleep'. A piece that depicted the fate of the Tuatha de Danaan as they agreed to be silenced, to enter Sleep so that those Pantheons jealous and fearful of Ragnarok would be satisfied.

Elba was old enough, that she had met and walked with the Gods and Goddesses of the Sidhe. Her brilliance was evident even so long ago. The scene she had created encompassed and radiated with the Divine benevolence that the Pantheon felt as they made the sacrifice to protect those children, flawed that they may be, that comprised the people of Sidhe.

Once I saw her seated, I made a production out of removing a porcelain cup set and a carafe for brewing Unrey. King Teigh had managed to corner the market on this wondrous drink, while there were connoisseurs that treated it with the same respect as tea, rating it by the underlying notes and fragrance that could be detected, roasting and grinding the seed pods in ever-increasing variations, I just enjoyed the taste.

Lord Heph, a world-renown chef shooed me aside to take over the preparation of the beverage. I watched in delight as the table Lord Aesin had placed was loaded down with plates and platters of food, food that he had stored at the exact moment he considered the dish perfected.

Along with the Unrey that he brewed, a brew I had to admit was legions better than anything I might come up with, we dined. Those gathered sat and together we enjoyed a repast fit for the Gods, ignoring the consternation and entreaties from a growing crowd, a crowd that Lord Aesin signaled to our guards to restrain, to keep from entering the room.

Janus had no choice in the face of my intransigence but to contact his superiors, those people had no choice but to contact their superiors, until finally a counselor for Caesar, someone with enough influence and authority to make a decision, was able to act. He sent a phalanx of legionaries to the Portal Authority building, as well as a minor General to act as escort.

I knew I had forced their hand, that an escort was a concession they had not planned for. The presence of the General changed the narrative they had been planning. It was obvious they intended to host a banquet, as a method to humiliate Talahm.

A Ranked: Princess without the wherewithal or knowledge to know enough to understand that her presentation to Caesar was a grand event, and that there were protocols involved that must be followed. Protocols that included escorts, clothing, jewelry, even hairstyle, and makeup should conform to Rome standards. Combined the presentation would set the tone for how the elite would view me, and by extension Talahm.

We would be judged based on the idea of perfection and expectation we had no knowledge of.

And if we failed? If any of those variables were found lacking, it was considered a slight and insult towards Caesar. The poor unfortunate person who had erred, who had not met expectations was considered persona non gratis, beneath contempt, none willing to show pity. They were ostracized by society, their careers ruined.

This use of Court and presentation to the crown was a weapon that was more suited to Victorian-era England, how it had become entrenched and embraced by Rome was unknown. But I was certain it had something to do with the research I supplied when I was trapped in CERN. My study of the people of that dimension was extensive, the collection of information made easy because of their people's internet.

I had included that world's history in my research, as well as an extensive study into the workings of governments, past and present. It had been painful to read how dismissive the tales and mythology had been towards every Pantheon. The Tuatha de Danaan were considered nothing but dreams, flights of fancy. Their real accomplishments and failures considered nothing, but words woven to entertain.

"Do you think they consider us stupid as well as lacking in all manner?" Grandmaster Elba asked as she sipped her Unrey.

"I would guess that they have listened to the propaganda and lies about our people for so long, they believe it to be true," I answered. "We have been vilified as the great unwashed. Barbaric, illiterate, savages so entrenched in inter-factional fighting that we have ignored the wider opportunities the Universe has to offer."

"They aren't entirely wrong," Elba said chuckling as she saw the faces of a few Sidhe blanch in embarrassment.

"No. They aren't. We have been too entrenched in the petty squabbles of bigotry to recognize that what we should be focusing our attention on was those outside influences that would keep us planet-bound and lesser," I agreed.

"We shouldn't be surprised that they treat us the same way the Seelie and Unseelie treated anyone that did not conform to their ideal standards of perfection," Heph pointed out as he continued to serve delicacies that managed to entice you to take one more bite.

"I do think they will be surprised to find that our intelligence was never at issue. Our petty squabbles were always a way for our people to vent. Wars that were based on an emotional response to our Gods, our parents, being forced into Sleep. Their sacrifice sapped our will and clouded our thinking," I pointed out.

"His Majesty's roll in returning balance to our people gives us an opportunity," Aesin said interjecting himself into the conversation. "It is his willingness to base his monarchy on a meritorious system that will be the making of the Sidhe and our plans for expansion. Or his ideas will be the cause of our failure."

"Why?" Elba asked in confusion. "People with talent should be given a greater opportunity to prove themselves."

"Because talent can be influenced by wealth and power," I said answering for Aesin. "How many Ranked: Earls, Dukes, and Princes are going to be able to stay their hand? To not intercede and give their children an advantage?"

"Even His Majesty has retained the best teachers and trainers he can find for Rye," Aesin agreed.

"So, there is no real way to recognize and promote the best and the brightest?" Kith asked. Kith was a Selkie who had a unique affinity for coral and stone. His affinity allowed him to create some of the most beautiful works of art that could be found anywhere. But it was his ability to seed and expand a coral reef, to grow the underwater garden from infancy to adulthood that made him not only well regarded but highly sought after from those Sidhe that made their homes beneath the water's surface.

He along with Heph the talented Brownie chef, and Piers an Abhac Blacksmith, rounded out and represented the group of artisans that King Teigh had asked to volunteer for this first exchange between Rome and Talahm. There were a few others, Heph and Piers had both brought an apprentice each, as well as a colony of Aziza that Aesin was going to make use of, but these three were true artisans. Artisans at the peak of their craft and careers.

I was not worried that our conversation would be shared and analyzed. It would have been easy to create a glamour to block sound so that our words would not be overheard if I had any concerns. But that would have defeated the purpose, the casual disdain the Sidhe felt for these vulgar attempts to belittle our people.

I wanted the Portal Administrator, the coward skulking in the hallway, to hear and report what we said.

Our conversation was interrupted by the sounds of feet moving in synchrony, and Janus rushing in once more. His entrance allowed after a subtle signal given from Lord Aesin to those that were guarding the door.

"Honored Princess," he said, this time bowing to show respect and deference, "General Ilyse, commander of Caesar's 5th, 8th, and 12th battalions sends greetings and asks to be allowed the honor of escorting you and your associates to a banquet at Caesar's Palace. A banquet held in your honor."