[ Again, Nigel exhales through his nose that laughing sound. ] How much like a fairy story your life sounds sometimes, Princess Rosella. Alligators in the moat, [ he says half to himself and half to her. Looking down at the undershirt he's wearing, he pinches at the damp cloth measuringly and then decides he'd be better off without it.

He doesn't bother to show modesty because in truth Nigel has none to pull the thing off up over his head and quickly shimmy into the shirt Rosella's provided. The cloak then follows, though he takes the opportunity to fold his undershirt neatly before also tucking it away. As he goes about doing this, he speaks: ]

Some would argue the right of kings is in the blood, and should not be earned through deed for it violates the purity of sovereignty. [ Here Nigel glances up, some of that fire in his eyes again. ] But none should simply rest upon their laurels, and certainly not kings. That your farther earned his crown through deed and action should be commended, not scoffed.