<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#99ff99">Kyrion straightened in his chair, the smile falling from his face.  "My Queen...?"<br/>
<br/>
"It was rather to discuss ours," Cameron said softly.  He reached his hand across the table to Gwen and offered it to her, palm up.  "We did not wish you to stumble upon the knowledge unaware, or -- to hear rumor, or -- "<br/>
<br/>
"My Queen."  Kyrion's eyes latched on Cameron's hand, then flickered to Gwen's face.  He didn't like the stillness there.  "Is this -- are you -- Gwen."  His formality cracked and he was no longer looking at his Queen, but at the young daughter of an old and respected colleague.  "Tell me this is your choice."  Cameron started to protest and Kyrion's eyes snapped to his to silence him before returning to Gwen's face.  "Make me understand.  I have never worried about any of the men that flitter about you -- you never gave any of them a second glance.  What has changed?"</span></span>