she's a strange sort of queen

"It might. A little," she murmurs. "After all, he didn't kill you when you were an infant, and it might not be much, but it is something." And it's a rather morbid train of thought, so she leans down and cups his face in her hands and kisses him again, a bit more firmly than the last kiss. "All this talk and I've not give you your presents," she says with a smile when she pulls away.