Alenard held one hand out in a warding gesture.  "Sirs, his Majesties' instructions were very clear on this matter.  I am to guard his door, and we will attend to him once he is ready."  He threw a glance at the hated door.  He'd been gradually edging away from it for some time; it was almost possible to ignore what was happening on the other side of it.  His hands clenched in irritation.  He'd led troops in battle.  He'd judged difficult cases, and resolved them to the satisfaction of both parties.  He'd aided in foreign negotiations.  He commanded the First Lancer wing of the Order of the Golden Mane.  And now his duty could be likened to that of a brothel bouncer.<br/><br/>"Intolerable."  He spoke through grit teeth.  "Very well.  I shall remain within eyesight of his chamber door, but I will await his pleasure" the accidental double entendre rang strangely in his ears, "in the adjoining chamber."  Alenard took care to meet the eyes of both Marquis and Pil'iar.  "On my responsibility.  If he has issue with my interpretation of his command, he can take it up with me."  With a nod, he turned to take up his new post, just across the hall.