When he ceased speaking, Alfie said low, “You do not have to do this, True.”

“No. I don’t,” True replied.

They held each other’s gazes.

This went on some time.

So long, True had to break it.

“We need you in clothes and we need you seated at that table, Alfie. And we have half an hour. The men are outside to assist. Though I think you can get yourself sorted, if you need aid, we are here. Bronagh says it takes some practice and requires a good deal of stamina to use the sticks. If you wish to try, we will try. But we can get you there more expediently on a stretcher and the halls will be cleared when we do so.”

Alfie said nothing.

Time was wasting.

“Shall I ask Wallace to bring in your clothes now?” True prompted.

Alfie looked down to his legs.

True gave him a moment.

However, he did not have many moments. He’d timed this precisely, making it a matter of urgency for the purpose of not giving his friend too long to think about it.

Therefore, he repeated, much quieter, “Alfie, shall Wallace bring in your clothes?”

“Have Bronagh bring them.”

“Pardon?”

Alfie turned to him, and there was a curious, but not at all bad, light shining from his gaze.

“If I need help, and I shall need help, she’s my nurse. She can help me.”

Slowly, True smiled.

Then he murmured, “As you wish,” rose and left the room.

He had six pairs of eyes aimed his way as he walked down the hall to where they were huddled.

He tore his from Farah to look at Bronagh.

“He wishes you to bring his clothes and assist him if he needs help.”

“Me?” Her voice was a squeak.

He heard a truncated guffaw, a couple of amused grunts and an odd high noise he knew was Farah’s, though it also was amused.

“Yes, you,” True confirmed.

Slowly, her gaze moved to True’s wife.

Not missing a beat, Farah pulled the folded clothing from Wallace’s hands and shoved it Bronagh’s way.

Tentatively, the nurse took it and trudged down the hallway to Alfie’s door as if she was heading to the gallows.

“Do you have a royal counsellor, amore?” Farah asked.

He looked to his side and down into her beautiful eyes.

And he smiled.

“This will not be tolerated!” G’Aron fairly shouted, slamming the side of his fist to the table.

“You need to calm yourself,” Apollo warned.

“You are not from this place. You don’t understand,” Aron snapped.

“I understand you need to calm yourself,” Apollo retorted.

“These are our acolytes,” Aron hissed. “They have our protection.”

Needless to say, when the Go’Doan shared they were again ready to sit the table, they did not share this with the intention to discuss matters of import to anyone but them.

Apollo looked to True. “I’m sorry, did I miss something? It was my understanding that Mars brought these Go’Ella in solely for questioning.”