She shook her head. ‘Quiet. Not like the old days. But then, nothing is, is it?’

‘We must all move on, yes.’

‘Oh, people do that, don’t they. Consider my husband – could he have gone any further away than he has? Glimmer Fate, seasonal forts, a handful of the lost and broken to command. This would be true service to the realm; you’d have to say that, wouldn’t you?’

He studied her. ‘It is a great responsibility.’

Abruptly she laughed, broke his gaze to look away. Her right hand drummed a rattle of taps on the tabletop and then fell still once more. ‘We all skirt the borderlands, as if to test our limits.’

‘Not all of us,’ he replied.

She glanced at him, then away again. ‘You are a pariah in the Citadel. They think you arrogant and dismissive, but that’s not you, Galar. It never was.’

‘It seems I have little in common with the Citadel’s denizens.’

‘We chose you for that very reason.’

He considered that, and then sighed.

She leaned forward. ‘It wasn’t punishment, Galar. It was never that.’

But it was, and he knew it.

‘You could at least take a priestess to your bed, you know. Leave the celibates staring at walls in their monasteries; that’s not the way for people like us. We’re soldiers and we have the appetites to match.’

‘And are you well fed these days, Toras?’

As usual, his barb had no effect upon her. ‘Well enough,’ she replied, leaning back once more. ‘You probably would not understand this, but it is my very certainty that my husband has remained true that drives me to do as I do.’

‘You are right – I do not understand that at all.’

‘I am not his equal. I had no hope of becoming that, not from the very start. I walked the trench at his side, always. That’s not an easy thing to live with, not day after day.’

‘There was no trench, Toras. None saw you as his lesser – you command the Hust Legion, for Abyss’ sake.’

‘This has nothing to do with military rank, or achievements.’

‘Then what?’

But she shook her head. ‘I have missed you, Galar.’

All of this without once meeting his gaze. He had no idea if others were watching, or even striving to listen in on this conversation. He did not think it likely. Servants had brought rushes into the room to set out upon the floor. Someone was singing drunkenly, forgetting lines, and laughter echoed. Woodsmoke hung heavy, stinging his eyes. He shrugged. ‘What is to be done, then?’

She rose, slapped him on the shoulder. ‘Go to your room. It’s late.’

‘And you?’

Smiling, she wheeled away. ‘That’s the thing about courage, isn’t it?’