She curtsied and smiled broadly, displaying the perfect image of a young noblewoman who knew nothing but joy and mirth. Maerok bowed, kissed her hand, and rose smiling at her and the crew. Of course, he smiled the most at Raevyn. “My good fellows, my dear lady Thorne! We have long awaited your arrival, my wife especially. She has been caught up in the affairs of the state, worrying about this, or that. I am most certainly not cut out for the burden of a kingdom. I do, however, wish to know how your time at sea treated you. The vessel Alysanne and I paid for certainly held up, I see.” The Crownmaker announced, exaggerating his voice, as if he were part of a theatre production. “Yes, milord, the vessel most certainly did hold up. As for our voyage, a few sudden storms and more than a few common drakes disturbed us, but I dare say it was enjoyable. Especially with such a fine crew! I give my humble regards to Frey, a bosun, and Olaf, a navigator,” Raevyn said, turning to face Baldur and the crew. “And, if I may, your Grace, I have decided to appoint these two to my personal guard. It has been quite lonely ever since I returned from the north.” She made sure to carefully enunciate every word, checking her tone and thinking about every sentence she made. Despite this, Baldur’s crusty old face lit up like dragonfire, his gob nearly exploding with all the awful things that he could say in that moment. Frey and Olaf, on the other hand, wore expressions of shock, the one time Raevyn had ever seen Frey show true emotion. It was a nice change from the hurt frown Olaf was giving her a minute ago. The captain, however annoyed he was, managed to construct a polite, calm, yet obviously fake manner about himself.