None of the elves could tell whether Minas was joking, whether she meant what she said, and though they used similar tactics in their own court, it felt different having that uncertainty used against them.  However, the queen and king kept up their mild manners, acting as though everything were fine and pleasant.  At the question, Riasa laughed, and sipped at her wine.<br/><br/>"Oh, we sing, dance, the like...  Prince Tamlin is an excellent singer; perhaps he will share a song or two."  The nonchalant suggestion was more of an order, and the elf knew it.  His ears went stiff, rigid and tense, but he inclined his head and looked to the Demon Queen, his future mother-in-law, with agreement.  "I would be happy to do so, if it please you,<i>Myramim</i>."<br/><br/>The term was old elvish, for the ultimate distinguished woman, a rare and praising title.  If she wanted to hear him, then he'd do as asked, and if not, he'd sit put and try to blend into the noise and the background just to be left alone.