"And so my lord, the material simply would not go together well enough for a good fit, but..." Lady Samma stopped in mid sentence and stood like a fish on dry ground, her mouth open as Lord Advisor Jaelon spun on his heels and departed without a word. She had been sharing the trials of her day with him and apparently thought him as engrossed with material and fittings as she. The door shut with a definite thud which broke her frozen pose.

"My Queen, whatever did I say?"

Samma has no idea how boring her conversation is to a man like Jaelon, Ramier thought. But she could not hurt the lady's feelings so. However...

"I did not listen because the lady says nothing I want to hear." Jaelon bowed slightly to his queen. "I did not intend disrespect, but I could not abide her speech any longer." He shrugged his shoulder. "So I left."

"And left the whining twit with me." Ramier crinkled her nose, expressing her displeasure.

"Ah, yes, but being the queen, you may leave without a word, and no one can say you nay." This time, Jaelon leaned in to her and smiled. "Admit it. You couldn't stand listening to her prattle either."

Ramier tried to hold her frown, but it gave way to a smile. She tapped his hand in pique. "While that may be true, my good advisor, please take me with you the next time you abscond." She rolled her eyes dramatically. "That woman will be the death of me yet." With a tease to her tone, she amended, "Or at least her tongue will."

"Well, if one uses her tongue correctly, a man would not leave so abruptly."

"Jaelon!" Ramier dropped her chin and widened her eyes, unable to believe the man said such a thing where anyone could hear.

"Yes, my Queen?" All innocence, Jaelon imitated her wide-eyed expression and left the impression she misinterpreted his words.

Shaking her head in amusement at an old game of words they'd played since childhood, she sat straighter and asked, all seriousness now, "I did do the correct thing, didn't I? Leaving, I mean?" She rose and walked to stand in front of the oversized fireplace. "I mean, what if I hurt Lady Samma's feelings? I did leave before I thought about that possibility."

Jaelon remained seated, knowing that the lady would figure out the solution to this problem on her own with some gentle guidance. From him. "What would you do now?"

"I think..." she hung her head, "I think I must apologize for my haste in leaving. Sometimes I can't sit still and listen to what I have heard before. But I would not hurt the lady for the world."

"I believe you see your own flaw and seek to be kind, my lady," Jaelon said thoughtfully.

"Even something so innocent as Lady Samma's chatter makes me want to avoid gatherings. Is that not a bad thing, my Lord Advisor?" Now she sounded pathetic.

"But you are being just and, I might add, courageous, by admitting you tire of hearing such and long for silence. However, not with the intention of hurting the sweet lady's feelings. I applaud your decision." He did clap in fact, letting her know he approved her plan.

"This doing first and thinking later is going to get me in trouble some day, Jaelon." She turned enthusiastically and shot him a merry smile.

"Perhaps, but that is why I am here. To advise. We hope I would slip words of wisdom in those ears long before you do something rash."

"This time, good sir, you left me to my own devices and see where it landed me?" She waved one hand slightly at him. "No time is better than now to say my piece." She moved toward him, ready to find the offended lady. But she stopped next to Jaelon's chair first. "If I have never said how much I value your sense of leadership and justice, I have been amiss. I am lost without you." Like a slender bark sailing down a merrily bubbling stream, she all but floated out of the tall double castle doors.

Jaelon sat, unmindful of the servants preparing trestle tables and benches. Meal time soon. His gaze directed at the fire burning low now, his mind's eye replayed the moments he spent quietly with Queen Ramier.

A full-figured tall woman of nineteen seasons, she was the epitome of womanhood, in his thinking. Lengths of jet-black hair lay secured in a jeweled caul--net--against the back of her neck. A scarlet cote--gown--lay over a white chemise. Black ribbon wound back and forth across her stomach and cinched the gown against her frame. Her eschapins--shoes--matched the deep red of her cote. Except for ceremonies in which she wore the crown her father King had prepared for her, she wore a mitre--narrow circlet of gold--as her emblem of state. Simple but elegant was his queen. More important than her appearance though was her zest for life, that smile of hers that spread slowly across her face, the light that filled her deep green eyes until they resembled the pines beyond the castle when sunrise tips them with light. She cared for her people. And him. Although she was not aware of his secret ... how much he adored her. Loved her.

Would that she knew how much I value her. In honest thought, how much she means to me. Jaelon frowned, his thoughts turning serious. I can never be more to her than advisor. She must never know my feelings.

On that somber note, he stood, stretched his tall frame and quit the room. Without a mission like the lady but with concerns of his own. How to advise the young queen when she asked about marriage. And that topic would come up far sooner than he desired.