"I had a lovely afternoon with Alcott the other day." Khala leaned in, whispering. "Bit of a dullard but he's nice, I guess." Khala shrugged, looking thoroughly unimpressed. "Somehow, I know he trained in war and everything under the sun as the heir to the throne, yet somehow I can't imagine him laying a thorough beating on anybody."
She shrugged when Freja mentioned that she did not wish for anything to go wrong for the princes. "Nobody in specific, I only wish for some excitement! I wasn't there when the next dead husband of Lady CatrĂona Leavey allegedly caused his step-son's fingers to go bye-bye." And then, as Freja mentioned the 'ferret gits', Khala laughed. "Oh, them. He did?! Wow. Is this for certain? That is just sad."
In her mind, Khala wondered how long it would take until her own father would have to do that for her own brother. That was grim.