Madame SacrePomme entered the throne room with a flask of something she'd prepared for the young king to drink:  a sweet honeydew melon juice with minerals and a good helping of ale.  She presented it to his in her outwardly formal manner, but was rather eager to speak.  "My Lord- I do wish you would reconsider traveling in this state..." She looked to the handkerchief he too often used as a catchall for blood and such.  "I do understand the need for the meeting between yourself and the gracious Earl... But perhaps the pet might wait?  Or the Earl may be so kind as to join us here?"  She lowered her gaze.  "I do not mean to be so impertanant, but I do have cause to worry my Lord..."