A/N it's almost over! Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers!
Enjoy!
Numair shifted from foot to foot nervously. He glanced at the announcer, who was looking at with amusement. Laughing at his nervousness.
He suddenly turned around and walked out the door, and started to announce the mage.
"Numair Salmalin of Carthak, Black Robe Mage." He banged his staff of office and Numair walked out and down the steps, uncomfortable in the black robes that George and Alanna had insisted that he wear, to establish his office.
His view of George had changed considerably in the past week, and he had proven to be a hearty and interesting man to converse with, except for his use of street slang that Numair was a tad shocked by.
Numair suddenly came back to his senses and glanced around, taking in the masses of milling courtiers and knights, and the long red carpet that was between him and the throne.
He straightened his shoulders and walked down the carpet, reaching the throne and giving a deep, fluid bow. As he straightened, the king stood up and silenced the room with his hand.
"This banquet was designed to make welcome Numair Salmalin, who has just recently sworn fealty to Tortall. We welcome him to our country with open arms!"
There was a good deal of applause, and after the king had sat down again, and Numair walked off to the side, where he was caught by a group of maidens who had spotted his handsome features and apparent familiarity with the king.
Numair gave a wry smile. This wasn't much different from the balls in Carthak, though here the women with blonde hair seemed to be a bit more common.
Numair kissed the hand of a shapely blonde, who began flirting with him shamelessly, and leading him towards a shadowed out cove.
This seems to be a bitter better, he thought to himself, settling himself beside the lady and starting a conversation.
A/N well, that's it! Hope you enjoyed it! And I'm thinking of writing an Eragon fanfic, in case you're interested! Ps. it might have a bit of time travel in it!
Review!