Rick had been waiting outside while Yasmin spoke with Fred. He lowered his gaze and helped Yasmin push her wheelchair. The queen remained silent until they reached the elevator. Rick muttered, "Prince Ross wishes to see you, Your Majesty."

She rolled her eyes and sighed. Rick understood and ceased his report.

As Yasmin watched the elevator's floor indicator, she said, "Okay."

"Your Majesty?"

"Bring him to me." The elevator doors opened, and she wheeled herself out.

Rick collected his thoughts, pressed a button, and later brought Ross to the queen's room. He knocked gently; the door was unlocked.

"Let him in," Yasmin's impassive voice responded.

Rick stepped aside, saluting the prince.

Ross entered anxiously. "Mom..."

"Where are your manners?!" she exclaimed sternly.

Hesitating, the prince knelt and bowed. "Greetings, Your Majesty."

"Stand," she said, turning her wheelchair to face him.

Looking up, Ross thought his mother looked older—more wrinkled and haggard—than just two days prior. He rose and stepped closer. "Mother." Rick, standing at the doorway, leaned forward slightly, alert.

"Rick, leave us," Yasmin instructed.

Torn between duty and obedience, Rick stared intently at her. Her frown prompted his hesitant retreat outside. He left the door ajar, however, unwilling to leave Yasmin vulnerable.

"I'm sorry, Mother," Ross apologized sincerely. His worry over the past two days intensified his self-reproach at the thought of anything happening to her. Despite Rick's assurances of her well-being, Ross remained uneasy.

"Now you're sorry? After all the terrible things you said to me?"