“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” di Wallach said. “It’s bad enough that your army lets its prostitutes dress like soldiers, but recruiting from the ranks of the quality is beyond the pale. You can get your rent girls from the brothels across the river like everyone else. I don’t believe for a moment that my Anne-Marie—”

“Shall we ask her?” Winter said. She turned to Cyte. “Send someone for Ranker di Wallach, would you?”

Cyte nodded and slipped out of the room, leaving Winter alone with Anne-Marie’s parents. The baron looked uncomfortable.

“My daughter is only nineteen,” he said, “and is subject to irrational feminine fancies from time to time. Whatever she may think she wants, I have every right to stop her. I am her father and she cannot leave my house without my permission.”

“I would suggest that she has done exactly that.”

“Which is why you are obligated to return her.”

Winter permitted herself a slight smile. It was nice, for once, to be holding all the cards. “I’m afraid that I don’t see it that way.”

“The law is on my side, and you know it.”

“Actually, my lord, since your city has surrendered to the Vordanai army, and I happen to be the ranking member of that army here, I think you’ll find the law is whatever I say it is.” She saw the door open again, over the baron’s shoulder. Anne-Marie and Cyte were standing in the doorway, and Winter raised her voice. “Let me make myself absolutely clear. I will not keep any Hamveltai citizen here against his or her will. However, if I have accepted someone into the ranks of this regiment, they will not be dismissed from it unless I deem it necessary. Is that understood?”

“What do you want?” the baron said. “Is it money? How much is my little girl worth to you? A thousand eagles?”

“It’s not about money, my lord. The Vordanai army needs good soldiers more than it needs coin.” Not quite true, Winter had to admit, but it was a nice sentiment.

“She’s just a little girl,” said the Baroness di Wallach, breaking out of her sobs. Makeup ran in rivers down her face, and her nose was sticky with snot. “She’s scarcely been off our estate in her life! You can’t expect her to march around in the dirt and sleep in a camp with a bunch of men. God only knows what’s happened to her already!”

“Have you considered that getting off your estate may have been one of her goals?”

“But she could get hurt! People die in battles.”

There was a pause.

“A great many people get hurt in battles,” Winter said. “Some of my friends have died. If things had gone differently, I might have been killed myself. Every one of them had family who would have preferred someone else pay the price.”