A small garden of pavilions greeted my sight. 

They flowered amidst the cedar trees like golden chrysanthemums, awash with more embroidery than could be found on a sequin dress. 

Not any of mine, obviously. Mine had enough threading that when pulled apart, it could be used as intricate traps to slow down the pursuit of my mathematics tutor as she prowled the Royal Villa, weapon (textbook) in hand as she sought the softest part of my head. 

But for all other dresses, it was a worthy comparison. 

Rich brocades of silver amidst backdrops of gold, matching the colours most sought after by those poor enough to still be enamoured by it. They were ringed by floral fences topped by garlands of juniper berries. A sight of colour and joy.

There was just one thing spoiling the view.

The bits of crushed tarts and fruitcakes strewn across the grass. 

The spilled casks and goblets forming puddles of scarlet wine. 

The upturned picnic tables with all the wares upon them. 

And the smouldering remains of a once hearty bonfire, the ashes cast so high that I was forced to cover my mouth to repel the taste.

A scene of total devastation. Yet this was no battleground.

No … it was the remains of a night of wanton frivolities!

“Why … Why is this such a dump?!?!”

I was aghast.

My kingdom … had been turned into a giant rubbish heap!

The rampant lack of hygiene! It was beyond any reproaching!

I looked on in horror. As I did so, I spied the figures in their distinctive chitin robes stepping amidst the piles of strewn rubbish. None were falling over in their haste to pick up after themselves. 

My hands curled into fists.

Elves.

A once great kingdom brought low and booted out with the dignity of paupers from their ancestral lands in the Fae Realm. 

And now I knew why. 

They were utterly, hopelessly messy! 

This … This was atrocious! Compared to the mass of loose socks which didn’t exist in my bedroom, this was unsalvageable! Even the most seasoned of maids would faint at the sight of such a mess!

Beside me, Coppelia giggled as she eyed longingly at the remnants of a party she wasn’t invited to. And just as well. 

However terrible this was, it could still be worse.

“Yep, this looks about right,” she said with a nod. “A race who spends all day dancing, singing and frolicking for the tourists aren’t really known for their tidiness afterwards.”

“This is an outrage!” I pointed. It didn’t matter where. “Trolls, elves or hill giants! I expect all who illegally trespass upon this fair land of overgrown forests to do so to a set standard!”

“Eh, this seems to be the standard.”

“Unacceptable! … And what is that stench? Why, I can smell it above the smoke!”

“I’m pretty sure that’s still smoke. Just one flavoured with a different burning pile. There are several.”

I let out a groan.

Then, I turned to the only source of joy amongst us … or who should have been. 

The pixie wasn’t performing the spin of joy I expected from having her long held request fulfilled by me. Worse, she wasn’t exhibiting remorse at having brought me here under the pretence of these frivolous elves being the least bit useful.

“My congratulations. Your missing vagabonds have been discovered. Doubtless they spent the past weeks in a mass of inebriation and lost themselves amidst their own lack of better judgement.”

The pixie responded by hovering higher in the air, surveying past the front row of upturned picnic tables and squashed fruitcakes. She gave a tiny frown.

“Hmmmmmm ….. something isn’t right.”

“Yes, well, that much is obvious. The squalor aside, this overuse of gold drapes wouldn’t have been acceptable two seasons ago. Now it’s just tactless.”

“Wait, uh, I don't mean that. The tribe has gone. I’m not sure who these are. It’s too small a camp, and I don’t recognise any of the clothing.”

“A dire omen, then. To think a small band of elves is enough to cause destruction beyond even an extended family of badgers. Why, it looks as though half of them haven’t retired from their festivities since the previous month!”

“Oh, that’s normal.”

“That’s normal?!”

“Yeah, it’s why elves are so popular. They know how to have fun.”

I could scarcely believe it.

My kingdom was not a playground! Certainly not for those who didn’t pay, no matter how much the elves claimed otherwise. I cared nothing for what trinkets they offered or knowledge they shared. This absolute mess neither excused nor matched their contribution!

“Then I shall teach them misery,” I declared, striding forwards. “If elves seek to desecrate my kingdom while drowning in their mirth, then I shall remind them of their obligations to those who generously host them.”

“Wait.”

“Yes?”

The pixie’s frown deepened. She slowly descended to join me.

“I’ve visited a lot of elves, and let me tell you, they’re very good at showing off their tourism site whether or not you want it. I’m not seeing any. This reception is a lot worse than normal.”

“Excellent. Because my response will also be a lot worse than normal.”

Wasting no time, I swept towards the unholy mess.

The moment I hopped over the first of the upturned picnic tables, unfriendly eyes snapped towards me from beneath the eaves of the cedar trees.

To my chagrin, the rush of hands volunteering to sweep away the filth was replaced by more than the scratching of heads. The way those blades were unfurled from sleeves? A defiance to etiquette. The way those bows creaked as arrows were notched? A mockery of first impressions. The way the shadows moved to encompass my back? An insult to queueing for my time.

Neither breathless apologies nor morbid embarrassment greeted me. Instead, all I heard was the din of elven disbelief, the clear fretting of a pixie, and the joyful humming of a clockwork doll.

I marched towards the largest pavilion, then swept aside the tarp.

Inside, a parade of gaping mouths, gormless expressions and uncertain grips on hilts met me as a handful of elves in armoured regalia looked up from a large table. Eyes widened in shock, while a map upon the surface was swept clean. 

I nodded. A start. 

But one sorely lacking. Even the interior of this pavilion was a mess of strewn ornaments and furnishings.

I strode towards the table, joined those present, then crossed my arms. 

“Begin. Who wishes to explain the sordid mess while I pretend to hear an explanation?”

As expected, none did.

I rolled my eyes and gestured around me.

“What is this absolute travesty I see around me? Why, I’ve seen better standards in stables! Your wanton frolicking may be acceptable in the Fae Realm where litter clearly vanishes into the endless horizon, but here in my kingdom, you are expected to clean up after yourselves.”

A deep moment of silence passed.

Then, one of the elves calmly looked around the table.

“Who is on guard duty?”

“I believe that would be Aleesa and her team.”

“You failed to change the watch schedule, then. Aleesa has other duties, as you well know.”

“My apologies, Count Radran. I’ll see that they’re fixed at once.”

I immediately snapped my fingers at the one being addressed.

A count. Antiquated in my kingdom, but not amongst those of the Fae Realm. Even those booted from it.

Elven nobility.

Excellent. This one will do.

“You,” I said towards the elf boasting the longest curtain of golden hair. “I hereby designate you chief scapegoat present. Explain the reason you’re attempting to invite the continent’s population of rodents here. Are you aware that each pet brought to the kingdom requires its own permit? If not, payment of fees can be discussed.”

The count raised an eyebrow. 

A less appropriate look than those worn by the rest who were present. They at least had the courtesy of looking extremely confused and worried.

“Radran, Count of the Fading Candle,” he said, speaking of a fae home long lost. “My apologies. We were not prepared for … guests. Particularly those who fail to announce themselves. With whom do I owe the pleasure?”

“My boot.”

The count waited. 

I opted not to elaborate. I hadn’t the need nor the time to offer recognition to this band of miscreants.

“I see, Miss Boot. And what is the nature of this visit? If you’re curious about the doings of elves, I regret that neither this camp nor my pavilion is open to the general public.”

“I hardly see why not. The addition of tourists couldn’t make this menagerie of disarray any worse.”

“To that I disagree. Your presence is evidence. So how may I help you?”

“By providing your complaints as you scrub. This is inadmissible. You are to remove every stain from every blade of grass. To make a mockery of the land you impose upon is a greater insult than the overindulgence in gold fabric.”

The count blinked at me.

“Human, have you just entered an elven encampment with a pixie and a ...”

“A Coppelia,” said Coppelia.

“... for no other purpose than to denigrate us for a lack of tidiness?”

“No, I’ve come here to denigrate you, then to provide your eviction notice. I do not do first chances, let alone second ones.”

“My apologies, but I don’t think that quite makes–”

“You’ll vacate this area once your quota of complaints has been met. I trust that’s understandable. You may now begin with a low huff, before sliding into a crescendo of weeping tears.”

The elven man raised an eyebrow as he slowly studied me.

Making no attempt to hide his appraisal, he took in my attire and my regal aura. His eyes lingered on the sword by my side.

Then, he frowned as he found the copper ring on my finger.

I did not fault him. I too would frown at that.

“I see. You have my express apologies. It was not my people’s intention to mar this land. You’ve caught us at a poor time, you see. We’re in the midst of an important process requiring all our attention.”

“Hygiene isn’t a virtue, it’s a law.”

“True.” The count gazed around the pavilion. “Then I suppose I shall begin tidying.”

His eyes met with the shadows at my back. 

Then, he casually made a scratching gesture against his neck.

My mouth widened in disbelief.

“Excuse me … but did you just do the, ‘kill them’, gesture?”

The count paused.

“Yes,” he admitted.

The next moment, the sound of a dozen drawn swords and just as many arrows being notched filled the air. 

And yet they all paled to the sharpest sound of all. 

My sudden intake of breath as I was assailed by indignation.

Why … that gesture was reserved for those who sat with their legs dangling impudently upon a high back chair! Minimum. There were a host of prerequisites before a foe could be dispatched with such easy and callous disregard! My own ancestors had fine-tuned it to rid themselves of burglars and plucky farmboys playing hero with timed efficiency!

Unsurprisingly, it was more than housekeeping habits these elves had forgotten since they’d last stepped foot in their homes. It was also decorum.

Yet I was nothing if not an educator.

And for an encampment of highly armed elves who I unquestioningly knew to be plotting some rampant mischief from the very first moment I’d spied them?

Ohohohoho … why, I was more than delighted to demonstrate all the steps.