Episode eight, in which I enjoy a sherry

Stuck being the bloody King, in my freezing stone tower, I decided to take a stroll through the lower corridors and I was amazed to chance upon a tree, lit with tiny lights, and hung with baubles.
Tell me, I asked the chaplain (for these were his rooms), is this a seasonal peculiarity: to have a tree in one's quarters? At first, he was reticent, no doubt knowing of my reputation, but on seeing my genuine curiosity he grew bolder and told me the significance and history of the tradition. We conversed awhile, and he grew relaxed and indeed he offered me a sherry.
I made to leave after a convivial hour or so and then I spotted a small box hanging on the tree amongst the others. Its appearance struck me to the quick. I turned in haste, but the chaplain's door was already open and I could hear retreating footsteps.
Guards! Guards, I bellowed.