Rollo lay messily dead, again, and with the old King in flight there was little to stop Yink and his compatriots from entering the throne room.
"How many times did you protect this place from people like me?"
"Many times, Whitfield, but never from one such as you."
"Still. Had you kept your loyalty to the throne, the fat old King would still be sitting up there," Whitfield gestured at the bejeweled seat with his sword-point, "making us miserable. Will you not, at long last, tell me why? Did he wrong you?"
"Not really." Yink shrugged. "Mostly it was boredom."