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As with any high-ranking profession, hers came with no small amount of danger. Violence and corruption were most definitely not without precedent, but they had managed along this far with little difficulties, for which she was grateful. Romana was far from the dictatorial leaders that had come before her, but neither was she easily brushed aside. Years spent by the side of one of Gallifrey's castaways had taught her, if nothing else, there was a time for everything.

This lack of aggression did not mean she should go without a guard at all times. Or so said the guard, who Romana doesn't think she could part with even if commanded to. She was a constant guardian, a usually silent sentry who was occasionally the only thing keeping Romana sane when surrounded by the sheer dull, complacent Gallifreyan populace at large. Leela, for her part, never complained about her duties.

During the Council meetings, Romana may not have been always able to see her warrior friend, she could feel her nearby. The duo could be seen walking through the Citadel, most often in silence or murmured conversation. The random passers-by might not notice that the two walked a bit closer than they probably needed to. That gazes were held just a bit longer than necessary, that the slightest of touches lasted a bit too long to be termed casual. Smiles just a bit wider when alone than with others.

That it was only when alone that they let themselves fully relax.