More than anything, the Hollow Knight wanted to say no. No, it was not a guard to His Majesty. It was the hope and future of Hallownest in His stead, and it had failed Him so dismally that the place had turned to ruin.

Its hand trembled, just a little, and it covered the action by picking up the mug of tea. The Hollow Knight had no mouth to sip the tea with, but the heat of the cup was soothing, and it held it there politely as the other spoke of his homeland. In itself, that topic was soothing, and the Hollow Knight listened attentively, some of that desperate self-depreciation fading.

It gestured to the lance that the other had, asking silently what he served now, or had served before their arrival.