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Seventy six years old. It wasn't that old, right? All the hard fights, hard living that did in your youth caught up to you faster than you expected.
Nothing for it. You take a moment to lean on the table, before bringing yourself to walk for the wine cellar. There wasn't much left, but if you were about to bleed for some manner of sorcerous rite, you wanted to be at your best.
As you pass through your private room through the main court, you pause a moment. Your grandfather's goblet still lays on the rug where you had thrown it. With a sigh, you bend over and take it up. Dented. All for a fit of anger. Sorry grandfather.
It takes a while. You're not a total invalid. But you do have to take breaks while going through this vast castle. The stairs are the hardest part. So many spirals, too many stones polished smooth by boot heels.
At least you don't fall over. By the time you get to the cellar, you need to take a seat on a cask to catch your breath.
"Long walk, your majesty?" Anna comes out of the shadows, bearing a lantern, and her cane. A handmaid of your wife's- you hadn't the heart to fire her when your wife passed. So, she was the keeper of casks. There to dust and chase away spiders. You laugh, set down the golden goblet on the ground, and nod.
"I'm used to people bringing me my drinks. Figured I could do with a change."
Anna nods, hangs up the lantern on a hook, "The exercise does us good. Keeps us from getting too run down in our old age. We'll thank ourselves for keeping active twenty years down the line."
You give a polite laugh at that. She gives a grin back, reaches down for your goblet. Scowls at the sight of it, "Cor! What happened here?"
You try to think of something clever to say. But you're sure Anna would punch a hole in any puffery you would try to display.
"Lost my temper. It'll still hold wine though. The Almsummer, please."
Anna hesitates.
"There's only one mugful left, sire. Are you sure?"
"Would I be here, sweating like a pig, collapsed on," You lean aside try to look at the barrel, frown, "On a barrel of 'Buford's Best' if I wasn't sure?"
Anna nods slowly, sighs, "I was hoping to have a cup before it was all gone."
"Treasonous conspiring."
"Oh most definitely. Usually in my dreams, I down the cup before seeing your head cut off by the headsman," She gives a jocular grin. She really is lucky she isn't saying this kind of thing within your Mary-Anne's earshot, "I'll be naught but a moment, sir."
You lean back against the stone wall, shut your eyes. Try to think of how to appeal to an "isekai." They were supposed to be similar to humans. Look the same at least. Share some of the anxieties- definitely the working parts and tastes, judging by stories of your great grandfather. Creatures of prodigious talent, power, and intellect. And either saints (like your great grandfather). Or not. Like the current threat bearing down on you.
You should gather some guards too, come to think of it. Just in case.