October 6, 1980

An elderly lady of regal bearing sat upon a rather ostentatious chair, just shy of being a throne really, in a rather large, mostly empty, richly appointed room in the far East wing of her manor home. It was in this room that she, Elizabeth II, Queen of England, liked to conduct any business with England's "other half," the half that few knew existed and was often so bizarrely backwards that only with the assistance of one of the royal historians could she understand the slightest of how they acted or what they said. The Royal Family had moved on with the rest of the world at large with a majority of its attitudes and actions. Certain traditions were upheld as expected, but others, like unwilling contractual marriage, the inability of a woman to hold a Lord's office, and other like discriminations had for the most part been eliminated, both in England and the vast majority of the civilized world.

She sighed, deep in thought about the meeting that would soon take place, remembering the time when she sat in attendance to her father while he too sat in this very room, with the same crown and sword on the table next to her now and waited for what was then an appointed proxy of the family that was now coming to swear themselves to the Crown's service.

'Three hundred years,' she thought. 'They have upheld the familial obligations all this time and never once asked for a reduction in the punishment handed down by my forefathers. Banished for three hundred years and now they are allowed back and not only do they come to claim their proper seat, but also swear in the next Lord of the House. I wonder how much is coincidence and how much is their often strange planning?'

"Madame, Mr. Marcus has arrived for his appointment. Shall I show him in?" asked a thin man who had entered unnoticed while she was deep in thought, only speaking when she appeared to have become aware of her surroundings again, as he always did.

"Thank you Cullen, you may show him in."

"As you wish, ma'am," Cullen bowed, pulled open the door and gestured the person waiting inside. "Mr. Marcus, Your Majesty, his daughter in-law Analais, and her new born son, Staros."

"Thank you Cullen, you may leave for now." Cullen bowed again and pulled the door shut behind him, knowing full well the protections offered to the Queen in this room were far more than soldiers or butlers could ever bring.

"Well Mr. Marcus, I have not seen you since the ball in France back in 1972. How are things in the Colonies?" asked the Queen as she gestured for them to sit in the chairs near her.

"Well, Your Majesty, quite well, thank you," said the rather small man as he sat down with some effort. "She was not in attendance then, but may I present my daughter in-law, Analais d'Prix Marcus and my grandson, Staros."

The woman knelt rather gracefully considering that she carried a small infant. "Your Majesty."

"While I appreciate the formality, Mrs. Marcus, please, you have a child in your arms and I am far too old to worry about such things anymore. Please rise and give me a good look at your son." Said the Queen, laughing lightly.

"As you wish, Your Majesty. This is Staros, born just this last week, September twenty-ninth." Analais said as she stood back up and leaned forward a bit to show off her small bundle, still asleep.

"They are always such a wonder to behold at this age. Innocent, beautiful, and so full of peace. It has been a while since I held a child of my family. So, Mr. Marcus, your familial banishment ended yesterday and I assume you are here to re-swear your allegiance to the Crown and take up the Lordship of your family that has laid dormant these many years?"

"Yes and no, Your Majesty. While we are here to swear in a new Lord, I shall not be taking up the title for my family. I am here to swear in proxy for my grandson who shall be the next Earl of Moneda and Lord Foula. I have no interest in returning after so long a time in exile. My home is in California, I was born there and I shall most likely die there."

A look of calculated interest on her face, the Queen said "What of your son, Edwin?"

"He has taken over our family's business ventures and will continue as the next commerce lord of our little financial empire, Your Majesty. Staros will not inherit that responsibility, focusing instead on his place here, serving the crown as did our ancestors. His brothers have also begun taking up their respective responsibilities in Japan and Russia."

"I see. Well, shall we get down to it then? I understand we both have limited time for this venture as I am to make an appearance this evening and you must have business to attend to regarding the boy."

"Aye, Your Majesty. Combined with the time differences, I am sure Analais would like to lie back down soon."

Queen Elizabeth picked up the crown from the small table, and placed it on her head. Few in England had ever seen this particular crown and fewer still knew that the one residing in the Tower was not the actual part of the Crown Jewel set, but a very expensive replica, but not exactly a fake either, simply not endowed with the "enhancements" of the true Crown. As she placed it, a slight glow surrounded her and most particularly the Crown itself.

"Kneel."

Mr. Marcus and Analais both knelt down before the Queen and bowed their heads. Analais pulled the cover back from Staros' head so that his upper body was bared.

Picking up the sword that had lain next to the Crown, Queen Elizabeth also stood and approached the two.

"I, Astrix Daniel Marcus of the House of Marcus, Earl in absentia of Moneda and Foula, do hereby renounce my titles and swear my grandson, Staros Aniken Marcus of the House of Marcus, to the Majesty of Queen Elizabeth II, her heirs, and their heirs, our lives to defend the Honor of the Crown, our hearts the loyalty of the Land, our magic to will of Her Majesty's People. Upon my life and my magic, he is blood of my blood and will carry the honor and will of our family, so be it!"

The Queen looked down at the man who had just spoken, raised the sword she held and laid it gently upon his head. On contact, a slight glow enveloped the end of the sword and cast a small halo about the man's head.

"We accept your renunciation and also accept your grandson as the new Earl of Moneda and Lord Foula. He is granted the privilege of the lands your family once held in trust for the Crown. We accept your oath of his blood and will accept his upon his turning the age of 10 as it was before. Upon Our magic and Our lives, so may it be!" As the Queen said this, she moved the sword from the man to the small child and very gently laid the tip upon his head. The glow from the sword seemed to diminish slightly then brighten as the oath was completed. With a bright flash, everyone present knew the oaths were accepted and could feel the magic take hold and transfer the Lordship to the small child in his mother's arms.

"Rise, Mr. Marcus, Lady Analais. Take Our new Lord back to his bed and get some rest yourselves," said the Queen as she sat back down and replaced the sword upon the table. "We don't involve Ourselves much in the magical world as I am sure you already know. As such, I expect you to keep us apprised of any activities that might interest us."

"Of course, Your Majesty. And thank you for this. Do you have a liaison in mind for keeping in touch? I doubt you want the usual British wizard communications methods flying in at whatever hours of the day or night."

"Yes, yes, they are still using owls are they not? Dreadfully out of date. The few Lords who have sworn to the Crown and other contacts we maintain are all pitifully unaware of how things are moving in the mundane world. See Cullen on the way out and he will give you the name of our liaison with magical England. I must see to the preparations for my appointment this evening. Good day to you, and good luck."

"Your Majesty," Mr. Marcus bowed while Analais curtsied, backed up the requisite three steps before turning and letting themselves out the door they had entered. The man they had met earlier handed Mr. Marcus a large envelope and explained the contents as being the details of their contacts with magical England as well as certain instructions the Queen had wished to give them regarding the direction She felt things needed to go in the future.

In a room far away from the events in Buckingham, a large, ornate wooden chair shifted from its position in the back ranks of several other chairs to another spot in between two other similar chairs. The rows of chairs involved all moved slightly to properly accommodate their long exiled brother, some in an almost grudging manner, others easily, as if in welcome. No one was present; no one witnessed the chair's movement. People coming in at a later date and time briefly wondered about it, but as such things had happened a few times before, it was largely ignored by all. The ones who paid the most attention were those who sat next to the empty seat, those who had previously been neighbors now forced to lean over the space to converse as they had before. An inconvenience to be sure, but again, largely ignored.