The carriage ride away from that village was conducted in a silence so heavy it probably added three tons to the vehicle's weight.
Sir Alex looked like he wanted to physically crawl inside his own armor and lock the visor from the inside.
Every time he looked at me, he saw the "Cow-Kisser" reflected in my judgmental royal eyes, and he would immediately turn a shade of crimson that rivaled Viking's eyes.
"My Lady," Alex whispered at one point, his voice cracking like a teenage boy's. "I... I believed the bovine was you. It had such... expressive ears."
"Alex," I said, not even looking up from my ledger. "If you ever mention the expressive ears of a farm animal in my presence again, I will demote you to 'Head of Stable Shoveling.' Sit there and be embarrassed in silence. It's the only way to retain your dignity."
