"Oh my, how rude. Has she forgotten herself before the High King?"
The fingers of one of Oliver's hands gripped the balcony with an intensity that Oliver wasn't conscious of.
"She does not begrudge you this, my Lord," Verdant told him. "She would have come regardless. Your own involvement was simply the extra push that she needed."
"Mm," Oliver said, neither agreeing or disagreeing. Both Blackthorn and Verdant had chosen to join him on the second floor, despite the fact that they could have easily been accepted on the first, as lordlings in their own right.
The arrival of the High King was preceded by the arrival of nearly fifty soldiers, all armoured in that shiny half-silver half-gold colour that they sported. They sprinted their way down the length of the throne walkway, and forced any stragglers back off the springy layered carpet, pushing them towards the floors that they ought to have been on, or else pushing them back towards the benches at the sides of the room.
