Mereavus had turned back to Thomas just before the Emperor entered. "Dinner this evening, Viscount?" she asked. "I could use the company."<br/><br/>And then watched as the Emperor stalked around the room deciding to pick out people and decide on their reasons for doing it. How very<em>childish</em>. Behaving like some ridiculous bully who'd not got his own way. If he hadn't had enemies before, he would now. And who said it was a personal attack against him, anyway? Now her mind was just being defensive; it hadn't been about him, and now he paraded around like the entire world had a vendetta.<br/><br/>Once he'd gone through two present and turned to demand who was next, she set her jaw. She had several choices. Shut up with the rest, step forward to volunteer to be bullied or stand up to him, and every last inch of her screamed the latter. Tell him his wife had gone, not him. Tell him that waltzing around like a child made more enemies in the room and worsened his situation. Tell him to go sleep and grow up, and actually rule, instead of satisfying his emotional bullshit on the courtiers.<br/><br/>So, she stepped forwards, and spread her hands in a gesture that said she was next.<br/><br/>Right in the firing line, let him conjure a reason - why she'd get rid of her best friend of fifteen years, why she'd put herself out of a job, and when, exactly, she'd have had the time to do it. And what ugly, manipulative reason could he conjure for her?