Well then," Roen said briskly, "are you sleeping?"
"Yes."
"Come now. A mother can tell when her son lies. Are you eating?"
"No," Brigan said gravely. "I've not eaten in two months. It's a hunger strike to protest the spring flooding in the south."
"Gracious," Roen said, reaching for the fruit bowl. "Have an apple, dear.

Madlen came to sit beside her on the bed. "Lady Queen," she said with her own particular brand of rough gentleness. "It is not the job of the child to protect her mother. It's the mother's job to protect the child. By allowing your mother to protect you, you gave her a gift. Do you understand me?

I'm not going to wear a red dress," she said.
"It would look stunning, My Lady," she called.
She spoke to the bubbles gathered on the surface of the water. "If there's anyone I wish to stun at dinner, I'll hit him in the face.

To Garan's credit, the treatment of Dellian prisoners did change after that. One particularly laconic man, after a session in which Fire learned positively nothing, thanked her for it specifically. "Best dungeons I ever been in," he said, chewing on a toothpick.
"Wonderful," Garan grumbled when he had gone. "We'll grow a reputation for our kindness to lawbreakers.

All right," Clara said. "We have our swordsman, so let's get moving. Brigan, could you attempt, at least, to make yourself presentable? I know this is a war, but the rest of us are trying to pretend it's a party.

You're the queen, and it's the queen's house, and whatever Brigan may accomplish, he's highly unlikely ever to be queen.