"I am unsure. You may have to ask him yourself. Let us go," Lady Weaver rasped, wrapping a gauzy black shawl around her throat. "Elysium awaits. And, half-breed, I worked hard on that dress. Do try not to get yourself killed."

'Killed? I thought this would be a peaceful meeting...' She thought to herself.
"I'll try not to?..."

She nodded once and led her through the briar tunnels into the courtyard. As before, it was packed with fey, but the mood had changed into something dark. Music played, haunting and feral, and faeries danced, leaped, and cavorted in wild abandon. A satyr knelt behind an unresisting girl with red skin, running his hands up her ribs and kissing her neck. Two women with fox ears circled a dazed-looking brownie, their golden eyes bright with hunger. A group of fey nobles danced in hypnotic patterns, their movements erotic, sensual, lost in music and passion.

She looked around at them and around them.
"Is there a reason why they are doing this?" She asked quietly.

Lady Weaver offered no explanation.

Oberon and Titania were sitting at a long table, surrounded by Seelie knights and trolls. The king and queen sat side by side but were actively ignoring each other. Oberons chin rested on his hands as he gazed out over his court; Titania sat like she had an icy pole shoved up her backside.

Puck was nowhere to be seen.

"Enjoying the festivities?" asked Grimalkin, who was perched on the edge of a raised pool, tail curled around his legs. His golden eyes regarded her with the same lazy disinterest.

"I wouldn't say that. Its very 'interesting' I guess?" She shrugged, continuing to look around the room, not paying attention to the people.

He yawned. "It appears things might get interesting soon, so I think I will stick around." Rising, the cat stretched, arching his back, and gave her a sideways look. "So, human, how is life in Oberons court?"

"I haven't gotten used to it... I'm honestly worried about this whole thing. I don't know exactly how to change the minds of the court... All because I am half fae..."

"Very interesting isn't it?" Grim asked.

Lady Weaver was soon looming over Lia. "The Winter Court will arrive soon," she rasped, pencil-thin fingers closing on her shoulder. "You must take your place at the table, beside King Oberon. He has requested your presence. Go, go." Her grip tightened, and she steered her to the table where Oberon and the lords of the Summer Court waited. Oberons gaze was carefully neutral, but Titanias glare was of utter hatred.

"Pay your respects to your father," Lady Weaver hissed in Amelia's ear, before giving her a small push toward the Erlking.

She nodded, the payed her respects with a bow.