They were not altogether happy in their advancement. Their feet swelled and their backs ached from so much standing about in their attendance of the Queen. Other changelings laughed at them. Some of the Ladies of Honour were offended that mere mortals should take precedence of them, and affected to shudder at the proximity of anything so unnatural as a eunuch; others, less squeamish, were sorry for the poor creatures and questioned them maternally. Their outstanding friend at court was the Royal Favourite. Male companionship, however imperfect, was a support to him. He was handsome and silly, and when Melior was cross they repaired his self­esteem. By the time he was replaced and the new Favourite, who was handsome and intensely musical, had set the whole court to singing in four-part harmony, lb and Rollo had ceased to be novelties. Their traditional significance—which was in fact as meaningless as a vestigial button on a suit—was forgotten. However, they were for the time being useful, as soprano voices in the part-singing.

Apart from the element of piety, court life at Brocéliande was much the same as in other Kingdoms. There were fashions of the moment—collecting butterflies, determining the pitch of birdsongs, table-turning, cat races, purifying the language, building card castles. There were expeditions to the coast to watch shipwrecks, summer picnics in the forest, deer hunts with the Royal Pack of Werewolves.

Apparently, the Afrit had not finished his work. Aquilon, using such words as ‘shabby’ and ‘iniquitous’, declared that Ib and Rollo had suffered enough, and threatened to resign his Mastership of the Werewolves if they were now deported to the Island of Repose. His friends supported him; the changelings banded themselves under his leadership, saying that they had been downtrodden for too long and were stolen property anyway. The Ladies of Honour urged Melior to be firm, the Directors of Piety begged her to be prudent, the Favourite took mandragora. When the Queen called an assembly, several of the team of Wand Wavers, bowing, put their hands behind them. The revolt spread to the servants, who refused to fly and went about their duties at a leisurely walking pace. This was the last straw. The Ambassador from Blokula—a formalist from a petty northern Kingdom who would be delighted to report that Brocéliande was in a state of insurrection—was hourly expected. Melior gave in. A disused hermitage was reroofed and simply furnished, and Ib and Rollo installed, with a reliable groom of Aquilon’s to see to their needs. There, not long after, they ended their days, Ib surviving Rollo by less than a year.