As more people arrived, the garden stirred more and more.
The guests arriving later were of increasingly varied types.
Elves did arrive, though in smaller numbers.
One elf, who was dressed like a servant, went to the centaurs and told them, "Your accommodations are prepared, and I will guide you to them if you'll follow me."
The centaurs lifted their heads at once, their restlessness vanishing in an instant. The oldest among them gave a short nod, and the group began to move in formation, hooves ticking rhythmically across the stone.
"It makes sense," Vell murmured to Sonder as they watched the procession. "The centaurs were the first to arrive, and they've long been among the court's closest allies."
Sonder glanced back at the crowd, which continued to swell. "There are so many," she said, "but none of them are speaking to each other. Why?"
Vell shrugged. "Mistrust. Old grudges. Fear. Prejudice. Take your pick. Each with their own words in their own tongues. They're still watching one another. Waiting. Maybe for someone to make the first move. Want to be that someone?"
"What do you mean?" she asked.
He smiled slightly. "Let's go introduce ourselves to one of them."
"Just like that?"
Vell tilted his head. "Why not? We're guests, same as them. And guests can talk. There are no rules against it."
Sonder hesitated, then scanned the crowd. There were dozens of faces—none familiar. Many intimidating. A few looked downright hostile.
Her gaze stopped on the group of sea folk. The tall, veiled figure in the center stood still, surrounded by a drifting mist that caught the garden light in miniature rainbows.
"They look approachable," she said.
"Approachable is a matter of perspective. But a fine choice." He gestured with a slight motion. "Go on, then."
"You're not coming?"
"I'll follow. But let's see how you do leading the charge."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely."
Sonder let out a soft sigh and prepared herself mentally, adjusted the sleeves of her robe, and stepped forward.
For a moment, she was aware of just how many eyes might be watching.
She approached the sea-folk delegation, keeping her posture open but respectful.
"Greetings," she said gently, stopping at a polite distance, and curtsied. "I am Sonder. I was wondering how you knew the queen."
The veiled figure turned. Behind the screen of magical mist, a face became visible, not quite what Sonder expected.
Their features were elongated, serene, and scaly like a fish.
"Sonder?" they said, testing the name. "Tell me, does the man with you go by the name Vellichor?"
"You know him?"
The sea-folk delegate nodded once. "The ocean remembers its storms."
A few more of the sea folk turned their eyes on her, but none looked unfriendly. Merely curious.
Vell stepped in beside her now, offering a shallow bow. "It's good to be remembered, though I'd rather be remembered fondly."
"You are remembered with weight," the delegate replied. "Which is better than being forgotten."