Not I. 

Oh, I play my part prettily. I will balance a saucer and teacup to keep her amused, and melt into the air when she wants me no longer. She sets me to spy on my fellows, and I go, and come back, and I tell her some tales – but one secret I keep to myself. The others, craven, wicked, can speak to no-one but her. I, the white cat, speak to the King, and now the King begins to plot. He builds a ship by night, a vessel to bear her away, so that laughter and colour may flower in his kingdom once more.

I too will go, but not from fear or love. When the ship makes land I will leave her and roam her strange southern realm, learning the paths of the wilderness and shunning my fellows, for I am the cat who walks by herself - and I am in need of a new adventure.