"Sam," I beseeched. (Patreon)

"Do you know anything about Rotnev Nidab's chronothaumaturgical research?  He had a way of changing people's lineage, which turned Estmere into a lowfolk and made him ineligible to be King.  If we could use a similar technique to turn Rowan into an elfin noblefemme..."

"Destroyed every trace of it, the Ministry would have," Sam replied.  "Buried in the deepest vault, any remaining evidence would be.  Besides, through the Ferifax Arch his mother went, so half lowfolk Estmere already was.  Otherwise, work the process most likely would not."

"Plus, it's monstrously Unseelie, tis," Estvan piped up.

"So?" I retorted.  "Does that mean we shouldn't even consider it?"

"Aye, lad.  It does.  Besoides, as oi recall, they had to use quoite a bit o' kit to work that spell.  Sure an' where are ye gonna get the materials?"

"Can't you and Sam get them for me?" I postulated.

The two foxes stared at me for a moment.

"Write off this plan, you must," Sam sighed.  "Change the femme's nature, you cannot.  Leave this circle, you also cannot."

"My father is rich!" Rowan interjected.  "He could hire a crew to dig up these stones and move them to the backyard of our mansion!"

"Work, not sure that would," Sam muttered.

"WAIT A MINUTE, WAIT A MINUTE," Estvan gekkered suddenly.  "Blarney, lass!  Sure an weren't ye tellin' us a moment ago that yer family was skint an' busted, fallen on hard toimes?"

"Right, I did," Rowan floundered.  "He used to be rich, see, and I keep forgetting that he isn't anymore, now that the family business has failed."

"An furthermore," Estvan continued suspiciously.  "Did ye not say that ye were involved in a wee bit of a scandal, an that yer parents had disowned ye?"

"Well yes, but, uh .. only until such time as I got a Real Job.  I'm sure if His Highness Lord Randy or whatever could give me just a little sack of gold to take home .. just as a surety and a token of his intention, you see .. if I showed that to Daddy and told him I had a genuine royal elf for a suitor he'd be sure to take me back in, and - OOPS!"

Suddenly, somehow, the knot holding Rowan's skirt together came undone.  She quickly twisted herself around to catch it before it fell.

"OH GOODNESS!" she giggled with evident embarrassment as she re-tied the fabric.  "I really need to find a better way to secure that!"

"Aye, lass," Estvan muttered darkly.  "Aye, that ye do."

"Oi'm not an expert on the subject boy any means," Estvan whispered to me.  "But oi've a strong suspicion the lass is lyin."

"You think she's deliberately telling untruths?" I asked, shocked.

"That way, it seems," Sam opined.  "And to distract us using Wiles, she just tried."

"But .. but .. the part about the trees was true!" I protested.  "It had to be, because the trees confirmed it!"

"Aye lad, sure an ye've got a point.  But begorrah, what good is it?"

"Well, if I appoint Rowan to a high rank in command of my army, then the trees will have to be on my side.  You see?  If she serves me, and they serve her ..."

"A bad idea it isn't," Sam remarked.

"Sure an' ye'll need more than trees to defy the Duchess," Estvan pointed out.  "Twouldn't hurt to follow the Lacktail's lead an' recruit drunkards from the local taverns."

"I can do that!" Rowan declared confidently.

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