'No! No. The cheering should be for you, my brave friends! You who have made sacrifices in my name. I owe you everything. It was only with your help that the Gurkish were defeated. Only with your help that the Union was saved. I do not forget a debt, that I promise you!'

West stared. Whoever this strange apparition was who looked so like Jezal dan Luthar, he spoke like a monarch. West almost felt a preposterous desire to drag himself from his bed and kneel. One casualty was trying to do just that as the king passed his bed. Jezal restrained him with a gentle hand on his chest, smiled and patted his shoulder as though he had been offering succour to the wounded his entire life, instead of getting drunk in shit-holes with the rest of the officers, and whining about such meagre tasks as he was given.

He drew close and saw West, lying there. His face lit up, though there was a tooth missing from his smile. 'Collem West!' he said, hastening over. 'I can honestly say that I have never in my life been so pleased to see your face.'

'Er…' West moved his mouth around a bit, but hardly knew what to say.

Jezal turned to his sister. 'Ardee… I hope you are well.'

'Yes.' She said nothing else. They stared at each other, for a long and intensely awkward moment, not speaking.

Lord Hoff frowned at the king, then at West, then at Ardee. He insinuated himself somewhat between the two of them. 'Your Majesty, we should—'

Jezal silenced him effortlessly with one raised hand. 'I trust that you will soon join me in the Closed Council, West. I am in some need of a friendly face there, in truth. Not to mention good advice. You always were a mine of good advice. I never did thank you for it. Well, I can thank you now.'

'Jezal… I mean, your Majesty—'

'No, no. Always Jezal to you, I hope. You will have a room in the palace, of course. You will have the royal surgeon. Everything possible. See to that, please, Hoff.'

The Lord Chamberlain bowed. 'Of course. Everything will be arranged.'

'Good. Good. I am glad you are well, West. I cannot afford to lose you.' The king nodded, to him, and to his sister. Then he turned and moved on, pressing hands, speaking soft words. A pool of hope seemed to surround him as he passed. Despair crowded in behind it. Smiles faded as he moved away. Men dropped back onto their beads, faces clouding over with pain.

'Responsibility seems to have improved him,' muttered West. 'Almost beyond recognition.'

'How long will it last, do you think?'

'I'd like to think that it could stick, but then I've always been an optimist.'