“I grant you,” she said, slowly, “this. Outside of the Governance which we shall mutually determine at council together, under my final will and rule, you may essentially govern as you have, and live as you have.”

And for the first time he looked away from his ceiling and at Sam.

“And you WILL forge for me. You will craft for me. You will bend your tools and will towards the needs and desires of my rule.”

“Some of my requests may not be simple or easy or without pain or suffering in fulfillment. Some of these things may not be requests. All that I require, you will make; and you will be prepared to be my artisans and my craftsmen at any day or night I so desire.”

The guards by the Throne of Alice are, as have been most of the guards whose job was both protection and visibility, were of great size. They were also of much skill, and very alert, and the double-headed axes each bore were not small.

But you cannot lift an axe while your jaw is in an accelerated journey towards the floor. Sam bounded to the Throne, and, to the utter and absolute cyclopean horror of all and sundry, shook Sam by the hand.

“Hey, thank you!” he said, his voice rising in emotion for the first time. “You are very kind, and I will certainly tell my folk that. But—” and now he kicked his foot a tad against the floor. “I hate to be impolite, but because I need to ask: What can we do for you?”

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