“This is certainly enough for me,” Dorrin said, trying for common ground. “Though I had commanded a cohort, I had no idea how much work there is in a domain, even of this size.”

“Yes,” Andressat said. He sighed; Dorrin wondered if he longed for his much warmer homeland. “What you must know is … in my archives, I did find much of interest. Of interest to Alured, certainly, but also to everyone—everyone in Aarenis and also you folk in the north. I wanted to talk to the king about it, and apologize—”

“Apologize?”

“For my past rudeness.” Andressat had flushed now, continuing to stare at the half-empty cup. “I—I always thought our claim to nobility was best, you see. The northern titles mongrel, born of nothing but ambitious pride. That we of Andressat, and the Duke of Fall, were the last and only to have direct descent from those who had ruled in Aare.” He paused again, then gulped and went on. “I was wrong. I treated him—the king—and you yourself as if you were baseborn, persons of no lineage, when it is I who have no claim beyond that of … of convenience.”

Dorrin stared; he looked up, and she saw his eyes glittering with tears he quickly blinked back.

“My pardon, my lord,” he said, his voice a little thick. “It is still hard to admit.”

She felt a rush of compassion for this old man, annoying as he had been before. “My lord Count,” she said, “whatever you think of your lineage, you yourself have served your realm well. If my opinion counts for anything, you deserve your title.”

“That may be,” he said, “but the fact is that my ancestors who came to Aarenis from Aare were craftsmen, not nobles. The title was given because too few nobles escaped the final disaster to govern the land … Commoners were elevated, and my family, my lord, were one of them. I did not know this until this past summer.” He went on, more fluently now that the worst of his shame had been told, to describe the flood that had caused his father and grandfather to reorder the archives and begin sorting and copying those damaged and how he himself had been trained as a scribe and scholar initially, before he came to rule.

By then it was dark, and despite the pastries and the fire, Dorrin was both stiff and hungry. She held up a hand when it seemed he was about to embark on another part of his tale.

“By your leave, my lord, I will go refresh myself before dinner, and after dinner we can resume.”

He flushed again. “Of course. I’m sorry, my lord, I forget time … and you have journeyed today … perhaps tomorrow?”

“After dinner will be well enough,” Dorrin said. “I am eager to hear more.”

Dinner passed quickly; Dorrin and her squires were hungry and talked little. Andressat and the King’s Squires who had accompanied him made their own inroads into the roast meats and other foods. The King’s Squires asked leave to ready themselves for departure the next morning, now that Dorrin was in residence.