Well, here we are, got it out just after The Six Thatchers. Man, that was an episode, though the ending did feel a little off, wondering about that a little. Anyway, here's the end of New Earth and beginning of Tooth and Claw-I had fun with this as well! (Haven't seen the new Victoria series yet with Jenna Coleman, looking forward to that as well.)
Chip-John left soon after to find his body and restore himself while Sherlock walked out of the security office, mulling over everything that had happened today as he wandered through the abandoned Ward 26. Suddenly he heard a faint voice singing in the distance and paused, vaguely remembering something that John and the Doctor had said while Chip inhabited him.
"Jack?" Sherlock turned around and headed toward the Face of Boe floating in his vat.
"'Oh, my girl, my girl, my precious girl, what is this man to do.'" The Face of Boe, Jack, sang. "'So reel me in, my precious girl. Come on, take me home. Cause my body's tired of travelling and my heart don't wish to roam.'"
"Nice song."
"An old favorite of mine. I think it hits the charts for you just before next Christmas."
"Jack, I know it's been eons for you, but can you tell me anything about Torchwood or Moriarty? Is the Master involved at all?"
"Ah, Torchwood, such fond memories." The Face of Boe shook his head. "No, I can't tell you anything yet, but you'll find out more soon enough."
Sherlock frowned as the Face of Boe kept singing while the Doctor and Cassandra-Rose soon joined them. The Doctor complimented the song as well and briefly spoke to Jack, asking for the secret he was supposed to reveal, but Jack refused to talk.
"Oh, why are you being so tight-lipped today?" Sherlock asked, bending down and tapping the tank. "Come on, Jack, open up."
"Sherlock, please leave him alone. He's old, ancient, and wise now. Show some respect." The Doctor said.
"Wise am I? You think I've grown up a little?" Face of Boe asked.
"Certainly have a lot more experience now."
"That's true, but I'm not that old and ancient now, am I, Doctor? I must admit things haven't exactly been the same since I lost the bod, but I still look pretty good for my age, don't you think?"
"You look great. Ten pounds lighter if I do say so myself." The Doctor said.
"And with a swelled head still that fills up an entire tank." Sherlock said.
"Ha, Mr. Mind Palace Smarty-Pants-" Jack said.
"With a cool coat. Too bad you can't wear pants or cool coats anymore." Sherlock said.
"Sherlock, what's with you today?" The Doctor asked.
"Nothing, it's just today." Sherlock shrugged.
"God, I miss pants and coats." Jack sighed. "The way I would ruffle my hair, standing on top of a roof."
"Did you still stand on rooftops even after the Sycorax left?" Sherlock laughed. "That's ridiculous, why would you?"
"I'm not staying around here for any more abuse from you, Sherlock. Bye." Jack said, with some final parting words for the Doctor before he vanished.
"Why'd you have to insult him like that, Sherlock? He could've helped us."
"Well, he didn't help us, he wouldn't tell us anything. And why would he? 'For the third time, the last time', what a load of…rubbish." Sherlock frowned, wondering what that portended to for Jack or for them.
"Probably would mess things up timewise if he did." The Doctor said.
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I think he got pretty uppity as well as enigmatic. The Face of Boe, who goes around calling himself the Face of Boe?"
The Doctor sighed. "It creates a certain amount of aura and prestige. Besides, he's millions of years old now, he deserves some credit."
"It was all because of me and Rose, you know, the Bad Wolf, that he's the Face of Boe."
"I know, and I don't think he forgets that." The Doctor said.
Sherlock lowered his head, feeling ashamed a moment, as he wondered just how much Jack had suffered in his long, long life without any sort of reprieve. And here he was enjoying himself, not thinking of the consequences of his actions, but eventually he feared it would catch up with him and the rest.
Truth be told, the real reason why he'd been annoyed with Jack was that he wouldn't reveal anything about Torchwood or Moriarty. He was getting frustrated and angry that he couldn't solve either one of those mysteries, trying to figure out if they were connected, and who or what they were.
"Have you all forgotten about me?" Cassandra-Rose said, waving her hand and shaking her head. "Typical for you boys, bantering and babbling on as you do. You completely forget about her sometimes, don't you?"
"What are you talking about?" The Doctor asked, turning around to face her as Sherlock glanced away, remembering what Rose had told him in the lift.
"She can't get a word in edgewise sometimes, with the way you all carry on, or at least that's how she feels. She wants you to pay a little more attention to her, Doctor. That kiss was intentional on her part."
"I see." The Doctor nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."
He hounded Cassandra, though, to leave Rose's body as she attempted to negotiate with him while Chip and John returned upstairs.
"Do I look hideous like this?" Chip asked, examining his old, failing body and remembering what and who he used to be.
John shook his head. "No, I think you look pretty good."
"Bless you, John. You really are sweet." Chip smiled and sighed, patting John on the back before he stiffened himself up. "Well, here I go. Good-bye, John." He walked off towards the others.
"Good-bye, Chip. Good luck." John whispered, shaking his head, slowly following after.
Chip joined them, presenting himself to the mistress as a willing, welcoming host while Sherlock tried not to stare at him too much. Chip briefly turned to Sherlock and smiled. "See you on the other side." Chip whispered.
"Good-bye." Sherlock said as Cassandra took over Chip's body.
The Doctor looked up at Sherlock, wondering what was going on, but then he had to catch Rose as she fell over. He smiled at her, seeing her well and back to normal once more, and Rose smiled as well, reunited with the Doctor.
Cassandra complained, of course, being in Chip's body and then she realized that Chip was dying. Sherlock and John nervously watched, worried that she might still be able to travel out of him, while the Doctor glanced half askance at them.
But Cassandra-Chip sighed and tilted her head as if listening to a voice inside of her. "Chip makes a very persuasive argument. You boys had a hand in this, of course?" Cassandra-Chip asked, glaring at Sherlock and John. "Outsmarted me again, didn't you?"
"Sorry." Sherlock and John said as the Doctor frowned.
"Oh, don't blame them overmuch, it was Chip's fault as well. He knew what he was getting into, he suggested it. They went along with it as it was perhaps the best way out. No need to carry on much and shout."
"I'm very sorry about this, Cassandra, Chip." The Doctor said. "If there's anything I can do for you both-"
"Actually, there is one last request I make, that we both make on my behalf." Cassandra-Chip said.
And so they all found themselves at Cassandra's party many years ago, staring across the room at the younger, human version of her. "Well, this is it, this is good-bye. Thank you all for letting me and Chip have a wonderful time. It was a blast." She smiled gleefully and blew a kiss at all of them. "Good-bye now, and good luck."
They said good-bye, too, as Cassandra-Chip made her way across the room to confront her younger, former self, telling her how beautiful she was. And then she collapsed, dying in Cassandra's arms as Rose, Sherlock, John and the Doctor left the party in the TARDIS.
They sighed as they stood around in the console room, staring at each other after the strange, strange day that they had. They opened their mouths a few times, about to say something, and then they shut it, still thinking about everything that had just happened.
"Well, that was…unusual to say the least." The Doctor managed to say.
Sherlock nodded. "You said it."
"I think it was…" John hesitated, glancing at the Doctor. "Was it the best choice we could've made?"
"The best one, I suppose." The Doctor sighed, acceding the point. "Though it could've lasted longer."
"Maybe it was long enough." Rose slowly nodded, staring at the Doctor. "Well, I suppose I'll go freshen up." She turned around and left the console room.
"Rose, wait a minute." The Doctor said, going after her, leaving Sherlock and John alone in the room.
Sherlock and John stared at each other across the room, smiling. "Do you suppose she and the Doctor…" John started to say.
"I wouldn't put it past them." Sherlock grinned, coming around the console to meet him. "Just like I wouldn't put it past us."
They embraced and kissed each other in the middle of the console room, reunited at long, long last.
Several days went by as Sherlock and John spent a lot of time together, as did Rose and the Doctor, sneaking off into the depths of the TARDIS whenever they could. The individual party members might occasionally cross paths, grin shyly at one another, and then sneak off again to meet their respective partner.
And so it went until the Doctor got it into his head to go see Ian Drury in Sheffield in 1979. John and Rose were excited enough, singing along and beating out the beat to a song, but Sherlock was less than over-enthused.
"I would rather go to any of those times and places you mentioned, Doctor, than to go see Ian Drury in Sheffield."
"Oh, don't be a spoilsport, Sherlock! Everyone has voted, and you've been outmatched." The Doctor said.
"Come on, it'll be exciting, I promise you." Rose said.
"Please, for me?" John said, smiling pleadingly up at Sherlock.
"Fine, but I won't like it." Sherlock sighed.
The others laughed, though, and he followed along as they went out of the TARDIS right into a circle of Redcoat soldiers aiming their rifles at them. Everyone raised their hands, a little nervous as they were questioned and the Doctor employed a Scottish accent.
"Don't say anything, Sherlock." John hissed at him.
"What, like I told you so? Please, you underestimate me." Sherlock said, half grinning as John rolled his eyes.
The Doctor glanced askance at them as he introduced himself and the others, "Miss. Rose Tyler, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and Dr. John Watson, late of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers, of London."
"Why aren't you with the Fusiliers in Afghanistan then?" The soldier in charge asked.
"Enteric fever, very nasty," The Doctor said. "Just got back."
"Yes, that's right. Came up here for rest and recovery with my friends and niece." John said as Rose nodded.
"Why didn't you say so? I'm always honored by the loyal service of our soldiers. Let them approach." A regal voice said from a carriage halted nearby that the others had barely noticed when the soldiers commanded their attention.
The soldier in charge grimaced, but eventually relented and the carriage was opened, revealing Her Majesty Queen Victoria. The others quickly bowed and curtsied, though Sherlock had to be prompted, but John compensated with a deep one. "Ma'am." John said.
Queen Victoria smiled as the Doctor presented his credentials, upon which she pronounced that he, Dr. John Watson, and Sherlock Holmes were her Protectors.
"Really? Rest and recovery and protecting? We seem to be quite busy this trip." The soldier in charge, Reynolds, remarked.
"Well, multitasking, got to keep busy and combine everything together. Can't sit around all day long, especially when you've got a duty to perform." Sherlock grinned. "Might I ask about the details of that tree falling onto the tracks? I sometimes work with Scotland Yard to solve cases."
Reynolds relayed some of the details as John remarked, "You must be very brave, ma'am."
"One must always be brave. I quite like you, Dr. Watson. You remind me of a friend." Victoria smiled.
"I am honored, Your Majesty, to be thought of that way."
Rose coughed a little and the Doctor rolled his eyes, as Sherlock studied Victoria and John. Reynolds reminded Her Majesty they had to get moving, as the Queen commanded they should come with her.
"I'm afraid there's no room for all of you in my carriage, nor extra horses, so you'll probably have to walk. However, Dr. Watson, I would hate for an old soldier like you to suffer another fever bout. Come sit by me in the carriage and we'll get you warmed up, as freezing cold as it is out here."
John hesitated, wanting to decline, but that seemed suspicious and it was a royal request. "Yes, thank you, ma'am."
He climbed into the carriage, throwing one last desperate glance at Sherlock and the others, who simply waved him off as the carriage door closed. The carriage lurched off, leaving John alone, pressed up against Queen Victoria.
John cleared his throat. "By the way, ma'am, I forgot to ask, what friend do I remind you of?"
Queen Victoria sighed. "Well, he's a servant as well as a friend, but a deeply loyal one who's stood by me for years. I'll see him soon at Balmoral, a Mr. John Brown."
"Oh, John Brown." John said through a fixed grin as she rested a hand on his knee. "How far away is Sir Robert MacLeish's estate?"
"About ten miles, probably another couple hours or so. Plenty of time for conversation." She squeezed his knee tight.
"Oh, good." John said, his heart sinking even lower. "What's the name of his estate?"
"Torchwood House." Queen Victoria said.
"Torchwood House?" John gasped.
"What, does that mean anything?"
"No, nothing at all." He managed to say, wondering what was going on.
"Torchwood House is an ancient estate. It's been in MacLeish's family for hundreds of years, ever since his clan moved into the area." Queen Victoria continued, her hand slipping up.
"Really? Fascinating," John carefully nudged his hand against Her Majesty's hand. "Oh, pardon me."
"Not at all," She extracted her hand, but smiled at him nonetheless.
Meanwhile, the Doctor, Rose, and Sherlock walked together just behind the carriage amongst the soldiers. "I wonder what's going on in there." Sherlock murmured.
"Well, she was a widow mourning for her Prince Albert throughout the rest of her life, wasn't she?" Rose said. "Mind you, though, that movie Mrs. Brown…"
"What are you talking about?" Sherlock asked.
"Mrs. Brown was a crude joke that Queen Victoria had an intimate relationship with one of her servants, a Mr. John Brown who served her at Balmoral." The Doctor said.
"John Brown? Oh dear John," Sherlock shook his head, glancing up at the carriage.
"Hopefully he'll be all right. Maybe nothing much will happen if she's…" Rose hesitated to say anything more. "Maybe he can take care of himself."
"She's a queen, after all, that's intimidating and possibly alluring." Sherlock said.
The Doctor frowned. "She won't take advantage of him, not under my watch."
"That might hurt his pride as well if you try to step in, and then we'd be in trouble with her. Possibly with him, too." Sherlock sighed. "I'm sure he might appreciate it, but let's leave them alone for now, and hopefully nothing will come of it."
"All right, but I'll keep my eye on things." The Doctor said.
"Thanks." Sherlock nodded.
"Hang on a minute, possibly alluring?" Rose asked, staring at Sherlock. "What does that mean?"
Sherlock sighed. "I hadn't been certain, but then John met Sarah, and though he tried to deny it, he was attracted to her as well. I think he's a bit more fluid than I am in that regard."
"Ah, I see, and you're not jealous?" The Doctor asked.
Sherlock shrugged. "I'll admit the proposition unnerves me somewhat that John might not be completely happy with just me alone. But then again, if push comes to shove and he really needs that…I might be willing to accept sharing him. If she's nice for him as well."
"Wow, Sherlock, that's really mature." Rose nodded.
"Thanks, but I still get first dibs on him." Sherlock grinned mischievously.
"Of course you do." Rose rolled her eyes.
She and the Doctor started talking about Queen Victoria and betting she could get the Queen to utter a famous phrase. Sherlock even joined in, betting against Rose.
"The stakes just got higher." Rose grinned.
Inside the carriage, the queen continued to lecture and chat about Torchwood House, the MacLeish family, the clans of the area and the stories they told, including that of wolves. She got out her journal and started writing a little.
John sat there listening, bored for the most part, but he smiled, acted politely, and tried to ask as many questions as he could to keep up his conversation. Occasionally her hands did wander and she tried to nestle against him, but he tried his best to discourage without upsetting her.
He glanced once at her journal and looked away. "Is that a sketch?"
"Mmm-hmm, I do a little drawing now and then as well as writing. Keeps the mind active."
"That's good." He said, wondering if she was starting to make a likeness of him.
Several hours later, the carriage finally pulled up in front of the estate, with Sherlock and Rose in particular dragging their feet, though the Doctor seemed pretty spry.
"That's certainly an impressive, if foreboding place." Rose said.
"Ten miles, hah! Felt like ten hundred." Sherlock groaned. "How did people manage traveling in these days?"
"They didn't really travel unless they had carriages and the like." The Doctor remarked.
"I hope my feet aren't bleeding." Rose grumbled.
"Ah, come on, fresh air and exercise, makes a body feel good! And we've got dinner to look forward to." The Doctor said.
"Whoop-dee-do." Sherlock said, glancing at Her Majesty's carriage.
Inside the carriage, John relaxed slightly as he saw Torchwood House come into view. "Well, ma'am, it has been a privilege and a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"The feeling is all mine." The Queen said, and suddenly reached over to snog John.
John gasped, caught unaware as she embraced him, and he quickly attempted to slip out of her grasp. "Ma'am, I really must say I have attachments elsewhere."
The Queen sighed. "I suppose that's to be expected with a handsome young man like you. But you do honor and serve your country as well."
"Yes, ma'am, but I honor and serve another as well. Excuse me, ma'am." He slipped out of the carriage before she could protest.
Sherlock and the others raised their heads as they saw John emerge, and slowly approached as he raced over. "Well, John, how did it go?" Sherlock said, examining his lover.
"Did she take advantage of you?" The Doctor said, obviously concerned.
John grimaced. "She did surprise me once, but otherwise, it was fine. Don't get upset. I learned a lot about this part of Scotland and Torchwood House, MacLeish's estate."
"Torchwood House!" Sherlock gasped as the others stiffened. "How can this be Torchwood House?"
"That's what she called it. I don't know why, what's the connection. It's been in the MacLeish family for centuries. She kept talking about the wolves as well." John shuddered. "She practically acted like a wolf at times, hounding me."
"Are you sure-" The Doctor had a threatening tone.
"No! Don't bother about it, it's all right." John insisted.
"Mind you, she did have nine children and was known as the Grandmother of Europe." The Doctor remarked.
"Now you tell me. She certainly was frisky." John said, and despite everything, Rose and Sherlock found themselves snickering.
"I'm sorry, it's just Queen Victoria-" Rose laughed. "I mean, can you even imagine?"
"I certainly can, and I would like to get that image out of my head now." John sighed.
"It's all right, John, you're safe. Come here." Sherlock said.
"No, not out in public, not where the Queen might see." John said. "I told her I had attachments, but I didn't tell her what kind. I assume she'll be very angry if she finds out it's you."
"That hurts my feelings." Sherlock pouted.
"As in 'we are not amused'?" Rose asked, grinning.
"Yes, that's right—what's going on?" John asked, turning to a grimacing Sherlock.
"We have a bet going against Rose that she can't get Queen Victoria to say 'We are not amused'." Sherlock said.
"Oh, well, that's just perfect! All right, Rose, deal me in, same amount for Queen Victoria saying 'We are not amused', because you know she won't be when she finds out about this!" John cried.
"Deal." Rose grinned.
Meanwhile, Queen Victoria had gotten out of her carriage and Sir Robert MacLeish greeted her, though he protested she should ride on. Sherlock glanced over and noticed some tension and fear in the man's body, which made him arch an eyebrow.
"Something's definitely wrong here. He's afraid, and not just for the Queen either. There's a threat hanging over him, and maybe for the ones he hold dear." Sherlock said.
The Doctor frowned as the others examined MacLeish. "Should we warn them?"
"What can we do if there are hostages, though?" Rose asked.
John sighed. "We should search for them and make sure they're all right before we can do anything. They must be close if their captors are monitoring Sir Robert."
"The wait-staff appears especially suspicious." Sherlock examined the bald servants flanking MacLeish.
The others agreed as Rose and the Doctor approached Queen Victoria and Robert, joking a little as Sherlock and John scanned their surroundings.
"You think they're upstairs or down?" John asked.
Sherlock glanced up. "Downstairs, possibly. I think the observatory might limit how much space there is to hold hostages."
"Right," John said as the Doctor inquired to the properties of a box the soldiers were carrying in.
"Must be very important or valuable." Sherlock murmured.
"Stay on your toes, gentlemen." John advised Reynolds and the other soldiers. "Maybe have a look around, possibly downstairs?"
The soldiers scoffed and dismissed his words as John and Sherlock hurried to follow the others, but one of the servants eyeballed John and glanced at his associate, who nodded. The servants followed close behind Robert MacLeish and their party all the way up to the observatory, another slog for those who'd been walking all this way.
It was a beautiful old room full of odds and ends, covered up in sheets and dust with birds roosting above, and of course the Doctor was enchanted by it, especially the telescope.
"An observatory that doesn't observe." The Doctor remarked.
While he examined it, Sherlock and John kept glancing back nervously at the servants while Rose attempted to elicit a response from the Queen, odd behavior all around. The Queen seemed to tolerate them, though, especially as she kept glancing back at John as well.
"It's hopeless, we're not going to be able to do anything here." Sherlock grimaced at John. "Why don't you try to get the Queen alone and warn her?"
"Me? Why me?" John asked.
"Well, she likes you, naturally."
John groaned. "I hate this, you know I do."
"Well, what else can we do at this point? The servants keep hanging around otherwise."
The Doctor tried to engage MacLeish to tell them about the local wolf, but one of the servants interrupted, saying they should rest before dinner. Victoria agreed, and asked Sir Robert if he had any old uniforms that might fit Dr. Watson.
"I think he would look good in a tartan kilt." Victoria remarked, causing John to blush.
"Get her alone." Sherlock hissed at John as they were led out and separated.
An hour or so passed as they got ready, John miserably dressing up in tartan kilt with uniform as Sherlock spiffed up slightly, though grimacing. The Doctor meditated as Rose browsed clothes, and discovered a servant hiding.
Rose and Flora snuck out just as Sherlock did, and they met in the corridor. "What are we going to do?" Rose asked.
"Alert the soldiers, go downstairs, free the others." Sherlock said until they came across an unconscious soldier. "Unless they're ahead of us already."
At once, the servants attacked and abducted Rose and Flora. Sherlock attempted to fight back, but he was knocked out and dragged away.
"Sherlock?" John said, sticking his head out of his room a minute later as he could've sworn he heard him.
He glanced around, wondering where Sherlock and the others were, and walked down the corridor. He knocked on a door, hoping it was one of theirs, but instead Queen Victoria answered.
"My, my, what a handsome soldier you are, Dr. Watson. Are you here to escort me to dinner?" Victoria grinned as she looked him up and down.
"Uh, ma'am, that is, I was looking for my friends, but since you asked, I would be happy to escort you downstairs if I can find the way."
"Of course, my brave, handsome doctor. Lead on." She grabbed his arm and they walked down the corridor.
"Ma'am, have you noticed anything strange at all about Sir Robert's behavior or that his remaining servants all appear to be shave-headed, like monks?" John asked.
"I know there's a monastery nearby, but what are you implying?" The Queen asked.
"The tree that fell upon the tracks, that can't be coincidence. And if they knew you would seek shelter here, ma'am, with Sir Robert, they might press upon him to…betray you. Possibly by threatening his family."
"Oh, Dr. Watson." Victoria patted his hand. "I thank you for your concern and that you're looking out for me as my Protector, but surely such a conspiracy would be extravagant to say the least. They might know my movements, but why haven't they acted upon me before now? The moors would've been isolated enough and they could've ambushed us as soon as we arrived. So why have they waited?"
"Well, ma'am…" John hesitated, unable to come up with a good reason. "Possibly it might have something to do with the wolves Robert was trying to tell you about before his staff stopped him?"
"Honestly, Dr. Watson, a medical man like yourself shouldn't believe wholeheartedly in these old myths. They're fun to listen to, but no more than that." Queen Victoria smiled. "As for the monks, well, perhaps his staff does come from the monastery or are devout believers."
"Perhaps, but I've seen some strange stuff in my time." John told her as they entered the dining room, parted, and sat down with the Doctor, Sir Roberts and Reynolds.
"Nice kilt." The Doctor smiled.
"Shut up." John said.
The Doctor, meanwhile, asked Sir Roberts to tell his tale, which led to a discussion of supernatural fiction as Queen Victoria still mourned her husband's loss. For a moment, John was struck by a look of complete heartbreak, her lip quivering and a catch in her voice, on Queen Victoria's face.
Despite her lustful side, there was a certain amount of passion belying a depth of woe and grief. She thrust herself vigorously into everything she attended to for the fact that there was nothing else for her. Her husband had been her whole world, and his loss still affected her all these years later, searching for answers, comfort, relief and anything else she could find.
John felt for her then, for he'd thought he'd lost Sherlock forever several different times since traveling with the Doctor. But those had only been brief moments, and Sherlock was soon restored to him, healthy and well.
He couldn't imagine what it would actually be like to live, year after year, without Sherlock by his side. But he imagined it would devolve into much the state that Queen Victoria seemed to be in.
Sir Robert launched into his story, revealing that it was a werewolf the myths had been about, and then mentioned how the brethren at the monastery had hindered his father's investigation. Then the butler appeared to say Sherlock and Rose had been detained.
John and the Doctor shoved their chairs aside, standing up to face the butler.
"What have you done with them?" The Doctor demanded, but the butler didn't answer as he strode to the window and started chanting a Latin verse about 'the wolf god'.
"Oh, god, it's a full moon tonight!" John cried, realizing what was going on.
"Now, really, do sit down!" Queen Victoria declared, slamming her hand down, drawing everyone's attention. "I've heard enough nonsense from Dr. Watson of some conspiracy, but-"
"Ma'am, please listen." Sir Robert said.
Queen Victoria turned her head and stared at him. "What did you say?"
"Ma'am, please listen, because it's true." Sir Robert said, staring up at the butler. "There is a conspiracy. My wife and my staff are in danger-"
"How dare you, sir, threaten and betray your queen." Reynolds barked as John and the Doctor rushed for the door, with Sir Robert soon fleeing after them.
"What's your purpose?" The queen asked, staring at the butler.
The butler thinly smiled. "The throne, ma'am."