Rowan stepped forward first, the movement measured rather than intimidating. "Sir," he said simply. His voice had a faint rasp to it, the kind you get from long nights and too much coffee, not from barking orders. "We'll be in the background as much as you'll allow. You don't have to look over your shoulder every time you move."
Marta nodded quickly, a small smile flickering across her face. "And you don't have to starve yourself either. Anything you want, just tell me. Meals, tea, snacks. You don't have to wait for the kitchen's schedule."
Hanna remained still, tablet tucked tight against her chest, her polite smile not reaching her eyes. "His Majesty asked me to prepare a capsule wardrobe for you," she said. "Formal, informal, and public appearances. We'll begin measurements this week."
Chris glanced between them. 'Great. The security wall, the smiling cook, and the ice queen with the tablet.' Out loud he managed only, "I'm used to doing things myself."
