“My 'next move' is drumming up an army and taking my kingdom back. I see no other possible course of action.” she informed the strange elf-man sharply. “But I will need provisions if I am to travel for aid. If you believe your brothers and sisters can help me acquire such provisions, then it would be a journey worth taking.” She was not stupid. She knew she would need help if she was to get her feet under herself—even if it was only just enough to ride off over the hills to an ally she could trust enough to keep her safe while she drummed up loyal soldiers from her own lands. She was loath to admit it however, seeing as how royals at any disadvantage historically found themselves without heads or with knives in their backs. Gwendolen would rather like to avoid both, which meant projecting power she most certainly did not have.

She cast a suspicious eye at Ryder and asked a bit incredulously, “I think I have seen you about the palace before. What [i]exactly[/i] is your position in the palace?”