“You must be doing it wrong,” Dunois says. “I have never had such a problem.

“Perhaps Joan could give you a lesson one day,” he adds.

She hides a smile.

They hear, from the head of the table, the scraping of a chair as it is pushed back. The Dauphin has risen to his feet. With his thin hands, he is rubbing his temples.

There is some awkward shuffling of boots and chairs, as the rest of the table stands with him.

“The chicken isn’t to your liking, Majesty?” La Hire says.

“It is nothing. I am not hungry.”

“I didn’t ruin your appetite with talk of bodies and killing?” A slender bone juts from the corner of La Hire’s mouth. He sucks on it. “This is much better than the beans we had at Troyes.”

The color drains from the Dauphin’s face. He narrows his eyes and aims his long Valois nose at La Hire, as if it were a knife. “You dare speak to me as if I have not also seen death and the horrors of war, as much as any of you standing here.” From his right temple, a palm flies down, slamming the top of the table and making the trenchers flop. “Yes, just as much as any of you! And I have suffered more! Much more than you can ever imagine. When I was fifteen…”

He stops, folding into himself like a wilting flower. “Finish your suppers.” He moves toward the door, but not before casting another glare at La Hire. “I must save my strength for tomorrow. Joan…” He tips his head. “Walk with me, and bring a torch with you.”

“Oooh!” La Hire says in a whisper, grinning at her. “He loves you best, little maid.”

She lights the Dauphin’s way as they step into a courtyard, a square of clear night sky above them. His breath, still angry, rattles out of him.

“The weather will be fine tomorrow,” she says, looking up. “For Your Majesty’s coronation.”

Beside her, the Dauphin exhales. “It has been a long journey.” When she turns in his direction, he seems to have wilted further. He has covered his eyes with his hands. “All that I have had to endure to reach this point…”

She is almost tempted to say as a joke, Well, we shall remember to pack your favorite shirt on our next adventure. And perhaps there will be better portable ovens, too. Ones that won’t break down.

“But tomorrow I will be king. And all that I have suffered before now, humiliation upon humiliation, like a long rope around my neck, will have been for this moment. My patience will receive at last its great reward. I shall be vindicated. No one will ever doubt again that I am my father’s son and this my kingdom.”