Yourself.
Hen. I'll be the king!
Wynne. You fill my heart
With singing prophecies.
Hen. But first we'll give
An order for the noble burial
Of this poor woman. Glaia's mother, Roland.
She called me brother, and would have it so.
Ah, little sister, did the angels tell you?
You lived so much with them.... 'Twas I who killed her.