<em><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">Servallatrix; The Courtyard</span></span></em><br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">The singing had stopped just as she came into view, and for a moment she was introspective, unaware of his presence. She opened her eyes and turned her face towards him, and her expression showed minute surprise as she smiled. "Of course, my lord." <br/><br/>She hadn't thought the king would have time for her, what with the rush of activity surrounding the ceremony. But perhaps she also knew he would need her today. The ceremony itself represented so many things to him, and the memory of his wife would hang heavy in the air for the entire family. Servallatrix wasn't so arrogant as to assume that she was the only person he could open up to about the deep pain that lay there, but somehow it seemed to her like their relationship was special in that regard. It felt like she alone had the ability to help him move on. <br/><br/>Most women would have made small talk about the beautiful weather, the festivities of the day or the week, how busy the day was or even brought up the ceremony, but Servallatrix was silent. She gave the king that placid smile that seemed at the same time to be all-knowing and all-forgiving. It was a smile she gave him often, something familiar and comforting. <br/><br/>She tried to focus on how he must be feeling, to anticipate his needs as she so often did. She was good at her job, good at being what it was he needed. But what lay in her mind as she thought about what the king would need, was the indelible color of aquamarine. <br/></span>