The One
Queenly, as my mother would say.
At my side mother radiates composure. Father sits on her other side, his expression one of polite anticipation, though I know him well enough to see the glint of amusement in his eyes. The situation isn’t lost on him, though he’d never show it openly. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but he found the entire situation with River and Brook amusing last night. In his mind, it’s just a bout of youthful indiscretion.
Of course, that’s because he comes from Dearlish, where the customs are much different. Here, any slight against a future queen is enough to be excommunicated for good.
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