should elderly king Carlos 3 really shake hands with the plebs

Mystique had lied to him for nearly his entire life. Pretending to be children with him, to grow with him. But just because those moments grew from a lie, did that make them any less significant? She had grown with him. She had played with him, and for a time, felt like a child again. The child she had never had the chance to be, flourishing within the safety of his mansions and his care and his friendship. She had lied to him, yes, and then worse, she had betrayed him -- but he was still her family. 

“You’re not supposed to do this to me, Charles,” she whispered, leaning over him. She had already dealt with the ‘guard’ at his door, some pitiful specimen who was too easily fooled by her mask. If he had given her more trouble, she would’ve ended him. Nothing was going to keep her from Charles side, not tonight. “You should know better than to make me worry,” she continued, stroking his forehead gently. 

He was injured, but he would heal. He had been through so much, but he always pulled through. Always. Why was it so difficult to remember, when she saw him like this? Did he ever realize, just how deeply she cared? Did he know? Sometimes, she thought that even if he did read her mind, he wouldn’t be able to know just how much she loved him. Despite his gifts, he had never been able to read her.