Gabrielle moved through the gathering like a wildfire through a field, flashing a blazing smile as she passed. The men tried unsuccessfully to hide their lustful glances while their women favored her with equally intense smoldering stares. Patiently waiting behind an elderly couple, she finally found herself tete-a-tete with the man of the hour.

“Your majesty,” she curtseyed. Vale remained in the shadowed balcony, unwilling as of yet to test the extent of Roland’s memory. She could feel his eyes upon them.

“You!” he exclaimed, one hand moving to his pocket.

So that’s where he holds the key, she thought.

“I don’t recall your name,” he said, recovering, ”...or face. Something I surely should.”

“Gabrielle, your highness,” she said. “I was not in the castle when you left…on your journey. I am, of course, your loyal subject.”

Everyone here is loyal. One would be a fool to be otherwise. His regained powers fill the yard like a gathering storm. I am a fool. He should never have left the dungeon.