“A good queen always has at least one ace up her sleeve,” Hildegard said, thoughtful. “Let my son be yours and prove himself useful for once.” “I beg you,” Rune said to his mother, “at least refrain from harming my ego until after we’ve eaten.” “My son is more than tolerable,” said Hildegard, moving around the table to offer her arm to Elma, as a close friend or confidante would, “but only when he’s fed.”
