Thomas allowed the guards to lift him, and guide him to the Great Hall, finally somewhat happy that he was able to walk around a little bit. Thomas knew that holding a trial this soon, and this abruptly could only mean a few things, none of them particularly good. Thomas knew the King wouldn't be presiding in the tribunal, as the Order of the Thistle probably hadn't declared the situation safe enough for the King to leave his quarters. Thomas looked down at his clothes, grime now covering various bits of his clothing from the dirt of the cell, along with the dried blood of Lexine Tristan stilling caking his hands and spots on his clothing. He smiled to himself as the guards continued to push him along. What a fine show he must look like. Eventually, the guards and Thomas made it to the Great Hall, which Thomas was less than surprised to find it lacking any guests. Thomas' visage turned to that of a more serious look as he was being brought forward.