A horde of elvish attendants met us at the gate, with most slipping by to see to the carriages. An elderly elf with graying hair and a few shallow wrinkles stood before the others, bowing with a hand pressed to his chest in an informal salute.
"Welcome, Lord and Lady Sunsinger. We've long awaited your return," he said in a strong, rich voice.
"Velne! How are you?" Aerion said, beaming. "It's been how many months since we've met? Four? Five?"
"Six, I believe." The servant said, brow creasing. "It's not my place to say, but your mother's been very worried. I've even received several missives from House Whitemarsh inquiring as to the time of your return."
"The Whitemarshes?" Selena frowned, smoothing her skirts. "I'm surprised their spies haven't kept them informed."
"I suspect this was Lady Whitemarsh's way of…suggesting we return as quickly as possible."
"Your father agreed," the old elf said.
"What? But he never mentioned it in his letters," Selena said.
