It's an awkward position, but not simply because Eleanor's arms are pinned between their bodies, both angled towards Alfred's hips as her fingers close around his side and she leans into him. It brings memories, the sort of memories that involve the muscles, the body, before reaching the heart. Like a forceful hug when all she wanted to do was cry and trash the place away.

Alfred was always so good at grounding her. He was cold when he needed to be, could endure anything if that meant looking after her.

Even now he continues to be her guardian angel.

"I bet you say that to all the girls you visit in prison." She attempts to joke. Eleanor sounds exactly like that tired queen he sees through that plain uniform and the dark bags under her eyes.

Her hand closes in a tighter fist around his coat, before she pulls back, still within his embrace, putting enough distance between them to look at him in the eye.

"Thank you for coming."