Rulio
Okay, Ruls. Here's your chance. This is the prince. Honestly, I don't know why people called him average. Well, considering that mine and the normal civilian's ideas of average were very, very different, I s'pose it all depended. No matter- I'd faced reasonably attractive mice before, not a problem now. Silvertongue time.
"I beg your pardon, Your Highness." I said softly, dipping my head and bobbing in a curtsy. Piercings and all, I could be charming if I wanted.
"Such formalities are not needed," he replied, just as quietly. "We haven't time to utter such frivolities." I nearly snickered, stopping only by biting my lip fiercely. On the inside, of course, so the prince wouldn't be offended. Nothing good could come of that. And then the realization came- if I hinted at my dislike of the monotonous days guardianship offered, I'd most likely be discharged altogether. 'We haven't time to utter such formalities'- we were at war, and pushing away what they thought was an opportunity to nobly and bravely defend would be as beneficial as telling the prince I didn't care if the entire farmhouse burned to the ground with him in it. No, I was stuck now.
"Indeed, sire, dire times these are. Times in which my services are ill-needed patrolling barren halls, when others do it with much more zeal and skill than I."
Hey, they don't call me Silvertongue for nothing.
The prince seemed to consider my statement. "Indeed, madame, I find it unnecessary to have as many patrols as we do at the moment. You would be better off in some other task." I wanted to scream "WHICH?!" and shake the mouse, but as long as Lady Rulio was employed, sadly, no shaking was to occur. The Rulio I knew and loved was locked up for the moment, held back until Lady Rulio was deemed unneeded.
God, royal-speak was rubbing off.

