Feron watched her fix the diadem against her head, with a touch of what would have been fondness if not for the situation at hand. The diadem in and of itself was just jewelry. Jewelry only nobility possessed, mind, but still just jewelry. For her to wear it meant so much more than that, though; it meant power, strength, reserve. To see her wear it, though rare as it may be, made her look just as strong as the Mithril it was made of.<br/><br/>"He will," he agreed, though his voice was hollow even as Aravae kissed his fingers. He let himself be lead out the door and into a hallway of tall white walls, reaching skyward and bearing the portraits of Aravae, her father, his father before him and all of the predecessors before that. The hall was equipped with four guards, two at each double-door entrance on either side of the hall. Under normal circumstance, two of his own men would be stationed outside Aravae's chambers, but he had dismissed them the moment ships were spotted on the horizon, preferring instead to guard her himself. It wasn't that he didn't trust his own men to protect her, but in times like these, they would be much better suited to defend her by keeping the humans out of the city until a diplomatic solution could be agreed upon.<br/><br/>Feron escorted her down the hall to the left, giving a brisk nod to the palace guards as they opened the doors to let them by and into another elegant white hallway, this time adorned with only modest showcases containing family heirlooms. King Lorien's chamber doors, tall and pale and elegantly wood-worked, stood closed between another two guards at the end of the hall. The King had always insisted on having his room close to his daughter's, and Feron had never seen a problem with it until now. Now, however, it seemed like a liability to have them so close together. Should the humans decide to invade this wing of the palace, they might be overcome and if both Aravae and King Lorien fell, then Terisys was lost.<br/><br/>As Feron and Aravae approached, the guards at either side of the doors moved to salute, their right hands closed into fists over their left breast. Feron held his hand up in dismissal. "The king is expecting us," he said. Though captain of Aravae's personal guard, he received strange looks from both guards. "Both of us."  It was more of a command than a statement, and one that seemed to get the message across just fine. The doors were opened for them, and after a deep breath, they set foot into the King's chambers.