The first times she was brought before the Royal Thrones of the Lan Realm, she had hope.
The king spoke promising words. 'We will take every measure on your behalf!'
Every time the queen kept her gaze away from me.
Today has been hard. The washing in a large warm bathing pool with attendants. That is usually uplifting.
As a hostage to this kingdom, it is hard not to cry over something I always thought was nice.
The only gowns available to select were in 'Ascendant White'. Marriage colors.
On authority, the attendants enabled my social protocol limiters.
A ring of attendants transported me in the familiar 'tink' of field effect transfer. I was before the royal Thrones. The attendants blinked away, leaving just us in the room.
The social protocol systems directed my stature and express.
I bowed and slid towards the queen's side of the room. Today, there was a stone bench nearby.
I sat. I was young to take this accommodation. A bench is meant for the venerable or otherwise weak.
I was weak. Sitting was preferable to collapse.
I took regard to the queen in this. She did not comment or rebuke me.
I was glad I had sat down. When the alien Wroug walked in. It was worse than I thought.
Polished! Clean. Brassy. An expressionless head that could only rotate (not bend).
The social protocol limiters helped me suppress a shudder.