Shy Deer Steppes tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow

She saw through the false sympathy but thought little of it. Why would Easy care of the king's demise? Nevertheless, she accepted the condolences.

Father is king, she answered matter-of-factly. He is well. And he sent me here to inform Moonspear of Llewellyn's death. Grandfather took refuge there once—did you know?

A pause, to gauge interest, then she continued. I. . .not yet. I think I will still travel, she admitted. Maybe we'll settle close by. I would like that, Grandmama, she admitted, smiling.

Her posture had relaxed, normal affected mien dissolved into her most natural state. Kind, pleasant. 

So you really are having children again, Grandmama? she queried.