Mmmm, not Craft, specifically. [ Allairavar takes a moment to think over a concept that was a natural as breathing to him. He knows that Fayura has imparted, as a part of her web, a large amount of information to the Strangers. That the Lady had doesn't mean it was easy to sift through. ] It is not unlike the psychic tendrils that allow us to speak to each other.

When we come close to each other we can sense it. Like a - mental scent. A Healer smells like green fields - different than a Priestess who bears the scent of starlight that touches darkness. [ He pauses with visible frustration that isn't directed at Piper. ] That is to stay, I sense Healers a green field. Another might perceive Healers different, but all Healers will feel the same to them. A Warlord might feel like a balmy, spring breeze. A Prince like the beginnings of harsh summer, but not as hot as the scorching blaze of a Warlord Prince.

[ He looks at Piper as if to gauge the effectiveness of his explanation.]

The titles themselves are only recognition of those differences. A lady, no matter her caste is a Lady unless operating in her official capacity. Males are addressed by specific title because we are always operating - or should be - in our innate capacity: to protect.