Cedar wanted to take the fancy clothes off.

Being half human had.. certain undesirable qualities, such as having sweat glands. With this much fabric enclosing his frame, with fur between no less, it had him feeling insufferably warm.  He did his best to ignore it, and to chase it with gentle, and discrete 'laps' of a nice iced beverage that had been provided.  He wasn't entirely sure what it was, but it was cold, mildly sweet, and refreshing.  Sadly, it did not taste alcoholic.  He wondered if the king had gotten wise to his and Yvonne's little visit to the pantry earlier that day.  Surely he didn't think he could get drunk from just that little taste, did he?

One of the guests, a well dressed, but clearly haggard looking old woman, kept leering at him with glittering, deeply interested eyes from across the room, and it bothered him. He had no idea who that woman was, but even with his nose full of spiced rum from earlier that day, he could make out her "intentions" quite clearly, and it left him very uncomfortable. Adding to the discomfort, was being put up front, and in the center like this.  Sure, he was a guest of some prestige apparently, but this was not him. Fancy clothes, brushed fur (Gods, the girls had spent over an hour fussing about it!).. No. It was not him at all. He felt like a fish that had been thrown up on the riverbank, gasping in the sun.  He wanted to be home more than ever, but did his best to hide it.  Humans were very peculiar creatures, with peculiar habits, and even more peculiar tempers. He *NEEDED* to be a perfect gentleman right now, and every bit of wisdom his dad had dispensed to him on how to behave kept rattling through his brain like hail on a rooftop.

.. at least the drinks were cold..

He made note of the appearance and scents of the Delving patriarch and his children, which he recognized (through the latter) from their appearance at Fanghorn.

He looked over at Doctor Solomon.  The doctor was the very image of poise; relaxed like a sleepy cat near a fireplace, and perfectly at ease as he sipped his own drink. That man permanently stunk of something long dead; long past the smell of putrefaction, and now fully into the scent of old grave dirt. Cedar wondered why the man at least hadn't washed it off? Had there been problems with getting him a bathtub too?  Curious... He did look quite sharp in his new clothes though. --Though he supposed he himself did too, but in truth, it made him feel ridiculous.  At least the smooth "undergarments" that strange man, Mario, had made for him were somewhat wicking the heat away from him under all this. He very much doubted he would actually try to use them as "sleepwear" though.  Nothing beat being naked for that.

He casually wondered when the food would be served.  There was [i]supposed[/i] to be food.

What did it even mean, "A position in my court?"  His thoughts took a dark turn down a dark alleyway, that collided with Baker's loaded questioning.  He didn't like it at all.  He needed to think of a polite, and non-offensive way of refusing the offer...