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Sir Gregory could hear the hard edge in his queen's words. He had never discussed the matter in great depth with her, but he knew she felt the same way he did: The death of the king was no mere accident.

He remained silent as she listed the possible direction from which enemies might appear. That she should not have the means to prevent it... That responsibility fell first and foremost on Sir Gregory's shoulders... Did his queen mean to imply that the captain of her royal guard was incompetent? No, examine the full scope of her words, he thought, calming the initial rush of shame mixed with anger that welled up at the words. There is more at stake here than mere ego.

For a moment, Sir Gregory was reminded of the queen as king Killian had described her. Strong and powerful, shining as brightly as the sun.

As she continued, his posture straightened. In life, His Majesty had spoken to him like this...

"Your Majesty, if you would pardon my plain and unadorned words..." Sir Gregory paused for a brief moment before he continued. Time, after all, may not be on their side. "His majesty was not simply my king," he continued, using a somewhat more common, more efficient and less flowery variety of speech than was usually seen at court. "We fought side by side on the battlefields of the Northlands together, and I came to know him as..." he paused, still unused to referring to his liege in such familiar terms. But he had perceived in her majesty a desire to speak as two people might, not as a queen an her sworn retainer. So, trusting his instinct, he continued. "As a friend. It was always my hidden shame that my devotion to him as an oathsworn knight might be diluted by such personal feelings, but I would not withhold them from one who was closer to him than I now that he is gone."

As he spoke, he appeared deeply in thought. His head bowed slightly, and old scars stood out plainly on his face. After a moment, he continued. "The Princes are fine young lords, as fine as their father was when he was their age. But I am compelled to say that I have not yet accepted a vacant throne for them." As he spoke, his face took on its usual character and he spoke once again as a knight speaks to his queen. Some conditioning is impossible to completely erase. "I am Your Majesty's servant." There was a hint of emphasis on the words 'your majesty.' "If there is any way I may serve you, name it, and it will be done."

"Take my sons under your care...for training, or whatever excuses you need. See that they are not alone, not even with servants, and only with those most trusted among your officers for bodyguards."

Lorna shook her head gently as she folded her hands together and smoothed her fears from her expression. It seemed her resolve had brought her calm again, so long as one did not look too closely at the whiteness of her knuckles that showed how tight her grip truly was.

"I know you feel that your place is at my side...both the court and Killian would have it so. But I ask also that you stay close to my sons. They will listen to you, I think. They will not heed words of caution from their mother, but from you it will carry weight."

She fell quiet, waiting. As a Queen, she might have commanded him to do this. But loyalty and devotion to a charge came better when given willingly. If she had learned anything from her late husband, it was that.