She said his name and touched his face.  Soft movements..so gentle.  Her tone was medicine to his heart.  Genevieve's arms were about his body and her head resting on him!<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"As your wife, there are many---"</span><br/><br/>Overwhelmed, the King shut his eyes tight against the tears.  Her words.  Genevieve was ...still...to be his wife?  No one was worthy of such a woman let alone him.  All at once a dozen important sentiments cried out inside him and Motto opened his mouth to speak but he stopped when she pulled away.  Something was<span style="font-style: italic">in the shadows?</span>Helpless against his nature, Motto’s eyes flickered with power.  Ignoring the shift within himself, Motto touched her arm and whispered.<br/><br/><span style="color: #00BF40">“The servant’s kitchen.  I go there whenever I do not want to be found.” </span>He frowned a little and shook his head.<span style="color: #00BF40">“You are cold.  I...would offer my chamber but …….”</span>He could not trust himself.  It was an awful truth that burned like lightning.<span style="color: #00BF40">“My Lady..I will go where you tell me to.  I fear if I am to choose .. I will no---  please choose!”  </span><br/><br/>Motto was on one knee with his face down.  At her word, he would fly to action with haste; keeping his awareness elevated for other presences and threats.