Tiphaine looked at her, and Mathilda nodded slightly. Then she smiled and rose as they entered and made their bow and curtsy; she advanced and kissed Dmwoski’s ring respectfully, then extended her hands to the youngsters. She’d known them socially, of course—Odard had been a frequent companion of hers for years before the Quest. But they’d both been teenagers and then young adults, and at that age you tended to ignore younger siblings who were still children. Neither had been presented at court.

And their mother tended to keep them very close, she thought. Even before she went to the bad.

“Lord Huon, Lady Yseult,” she said gently. “I am so sorry about Odard. I miss him terribly, but you can be very proud of him. It was an honor to be his friend and liege.”

She liked the way Huon reacted, dignified but reserved; for a fifteenyear-old it was rather impressive. He moved well, too, and looked as if he’d have something of Odard’s wiry strength. Yseult was more reserved still, and . . .

Tiphaine gives her the willies, though she hides it well. Of course, looked at objectively Tiph is scary as hell; she doesn’t scare me because I grew up around her. She did kill Yseult’s mother. So I don’t expect more than courtesy, but if the girl is going to be around Court, she just has to get used to it.

“And you all know Baroness d’Ath.”

Another round of polite bows. Mathilda could tell that Dmwoski was being a bit chilly, and Tiphaine was secretly amused by it; she respected Dmwoski despite his faith, not for it.

I don’t think the Lius noticed. They’re smart enough, but young yet.

The cleric and the Grand Constable were both far too self-controlled to make it obvious. Or to let personal dislikes interfere with the job, for that matter.

“Please sit, and help yourselves,” Mathilda said. “I understand you’ve been on the train all day, and it can’t have been much fun.”

“Crowded and slow, Your Majesty,” Dmwoski said. “But that’s only to be expected in wartime.”

Mathilda chatted a little to relax them; Huon grew enthusiastic about the gear and horses he’d picked up in Portland, and the prospect of going on his first real campaign after training to war all his life, and his swearing ceremony as a squire. That was natural enough, since it was big step and one that was overdue. After a few minutes he was also wolfing down the chicken empanadas. Yseult nibbled on one and agreed that she was up to transferring to a forward field hospital of the type the Sisters were setting up here in Goldendale.

“Ah . . . do you want to take my oath now, Your Majesty?” Huon said.

Mathilda shook her head. “Tomorrow, and publicly,” she said decisively. “That will be better, if you think about it.”