The man whom the Queen and her ladies were approaching was indeed lost in thought. He was tall and lean, and the tight breeches and stockings along with the newly fashionable thigh-long coat made him look even more so. The long courtly wig protruding from under his hat was black; his face looked older on first glance than on the second, being rather well-tanned and bearing lines around the eyes – like a man who stared into the sun often or one who liked to laugh. His clothes were lordly, the overcoat in shimmering azure, the waistcoat deep red and the shirts of the finest white. All of his attire seemed so crisp that it could not have been worn often so far. He had a sword at his side in a fine sheath around which a band of red and gold was wound, proclaiming a current or former position as an officer in Her Majesty’s Gentlemen’s Guard, the second most prestigious regiment in the land, just after the Life Guards, and precedent to all the non-royal regiments held by the various nobles. The presence of the sword did indeed suggest a high rank as did his clothes.<br/><br/>His thoughts were of the future; the last few months had been turbulent to say the least. The strangest coincidence had taken him from a military career sure to reach stagnation (for he lacked the money to buy a higher rank than that of Captain, the last one to be attained by merit alone) to this place, the Queen’s Gardens, where only those nobles had access who had a Permanent Seat at court – which he had never expected, not even hoped to have. But he had inherited the County of Adellan in the east of the country, and the vast estates and political role that came with them. The childless Count’s will had bequeathed his rights to the first-in-line relative of his long-dead wife’s of at least twenty-five years who served the Queen – and because the Count’s wife had been his aunt once removed, Sir Charles, third son of a minor baron in the Royal Domains, was now the Count of Adellan. A mere ten years ago, that would have been a wonderful position to be in, a generous bequest from the Gods – but not these days. He was now rich and honored, but it could easily prove impossible to remain both or even one of those things. As a Captain of the Guards and now a vassal to the Queen, he had sworn loyalty; but Adellan lay right between the Queen’s lands and the Duchy of Manneche, and Manneche, upon the Queen’s inevitable death, was fully expected to make a bid for the crown. That bid would be utterly without legitimacy, but it had ample power behind it to make up for that failing…<br/><br/>Snatched from his thoughts by the lady’s call, he turned and his blue eyes widened as he understood her words. He swiftly removed his head and bowed deeply with a grace one might not have expected from the distracted wanderer of just a moment before. “Your Majesty – I apologize for not noticing Your Majesty’s presence, I was deep in thought.” He looked around furtively; there was no person in sight who knew him. “And I also apologize for the breach of etiquette of introducing myself, to which  I see myself obliged; I am Cap…excuse me, Count Charles of Adellan, Your Majesty’s faithful servant. I only arrived yesterday. The Grandmaster told me that I would be allowed to pay my respects to Your Majesty tomorrow, which is why I am yet unknown to Your Majesty,” he explained a little hastily, but in good form considering the rather irregular circumstances.