Whether or not that message was received is anyone's guess. Léofrith is well-trained enough to keep her opinions to herself unless asked for them, and Éomer does not particularly wish to have this conversation at all, least of all with her chambermaid, so she lets the matter drop and finishes getting dressed.
As she had feared, her day drags on, a morning of meetings with the Marshals of her army segueing into the King's Court — well, now it is the Queen's Court, isn't it — after a wolfed-down luncheon of fresh bread and hard cheese with a tankard of ale to wash it down. It is a terribly dull affair, and before her uncle's death, Gríma Wormtongue had done away with the practice, citing the king's ailing health. There are times Éomer wishes she had not reinstated it, no matter how much she needed to be seen and trusted by her people; deciding over whether or not one farmer moved the boundary between his field and another is mind-numbingly boring, and even the discussion about whether or not recompense should be paid by the owner of a stallion who broke free from his paddock and covered his neighbor's mare is not that much more interesting.
The law was clear: compensation for an unplanned breeding to the mare’s owner and a fine because the stallion hadn’t been properly penned. In principle Éomer disapproved strongly of anybody who did not control their horses, saddling other people with unwanted foals. However, since everyone agreed that Greycoat was a much finer animal than anything the mare’s owner could otherwise have afforded — indeed there even was the suspicion voiced that he had let the stallion out himself — Éomer decrees that the mare’s owner could choose between compensation by his neighbor and giving him the foal or no compensation and keeping it himself. Unsurprisingly, the man chooses the latter.
She notices Eskel shadowing the edges of the hall at some point, though she is not entirely sure how long he has been lurking, but as much as she might like to, she cannot hurry things along. Each case must be brought before her and decided upon, and the whole affair will take as long as it takes.
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Date: 2020-09-15 02:55 am (UTC)As she had feared, her day drags on, a morning of meetings with the Marshals of her army segueing into the King's Court — well, now it is the Queen's Court, isn't it — after a wolfed-down luncheon of fresh bread and hard cheese with a tankard of ale to wash it down. It is a terribly dull affair, and before her uncle's death, Gríma Wormtongue had done away with the practice, citing the king's ailing health. There are times Éomer wishes she had not reinstated it, no matter how much she needed to be seen and trusted by her people; deciding over whether or not one farmer moved the boundary between his field and another is mind-numbingly boring, and even the discussion about whether or not recompense should be paid by the owner of a stallion who broke free from his paddock and covered his neighbor's mare is not that much more interesting.
The law was clear: compensation for an unplanned breeding to the mare’s owner and a fine because the stallion hadn’t been properly penned. In principle Éomer disapproved strongly of anybody who did not control their horses, saddling other people with unwanted foals. However, since everyone agreed that Greycoat was a much finer animal than anything the mare’s owner could otherwise have afforded — indeed there even was the suspicion voiced that he had let the stallion out himself — Éomer decrees that the mare’s owner could choose between compensation by his neighbor and giving him the foal or no compensation and keeping it himself. Unsurprisingly, the man chooses the latter.
She notices Eskel shadowing the edges of the hall at some point, though she is not entirely sure how long he has been lurking, but as much as she might like to, she cannot hurry things along. Each case must be brought before her and decided upon, and the whole affair will take as long as it takes.