Zianro paused briefly. He looked at her with an emerald stare that the elders claimed he inherited from the forger of Draconil himself. "Depends on what Kind of King. A king who is satisfied with what he has, loves his subjects, or The kind willing to protect and ensure there is a chance for all to prosper." He sighed, and drank deeply.<br/><br/>"Although, what do I know? I'm just a bodyguard...." He started to feel light headed for some odd reason. He felt like passing out. He realized just as he started to black out that the drink he had was drugged. "Oh, shit." He mumbled as he started to pass out. Just what did she hope to accomplish...?