<strong>"I have something much finer than silk."</strong>he replied, his fingers stroking her skin even as he held her.<strong>"And perhaps it time your guards felt the iron hand that the silk glove conceals. They are yours, oathsworn to you. Whatever their feelings about the choices you make, whether they approve of them or not, they must learn to respect them, and to acknowledge that the authority is yours."</strong><br/><br/><strong>"You command, not they."</strong>His voice was implacable, his tone held the weight of centuries of authority, the absolute certainty that his will would be obeyed.<br/><br/>When he spoke again, it had softened.<strong>"You may have to do things they will not want you to. You may be called to do things that are distasteful to you, but necessary for the good of your people. Your guards must learn that your will is theirs. Yes, let them council you, and take heed of it, but when you make a decision, the time for talk is past, and all that is then required is their obedience."</strong><br/><br/><strong>"Better this lesson be learned now, when time and circumstances grant you leisure."</strong><br/>