To herself: And he had it in for gay men much more than women, which makes it easier for me to be objective. But that’s standard. It’s even authentically medieval, from what I’ve read; without a dick involved somehow it wasn’t real sex, or not real enough to be a serious sin, even a perverted variety, back during the Reign of the Penis.

“Oh, well, I got a happy marriage out of it in the end,” Rigobert said lightly. More seriously: “And the kids, which I find in retrospect I wouldn’t want to have missed.”

“Me too. And I was never a rug-rat fan either; as usual when Delia insists on something, she turns out to be right.”

She sighed slightly. “How long are we going to be haunted by Norman’s ghost?”

“Up until about the time Rudi and Mathilda’s eldest takes the throne,” Rigobert said. “And he or she will be Norman’s grandchild.”

He drained the canteen and tossed it to a page. “So may the Lord Protector get an occasional day off from the furnace. He did some good too, even if unintentionally.”

The arrangement had started as pure and rather resented protective coloration as far as she was concerned, but it had eventually made Tiphaine and Rigobert . . .

I think you could say friends, she thought. Though I don’t have many, never did, except for Sandra and Conrad and that’s a liege-vassal thing too. Certainly we’re colleagues and close allies. He’s fun to go hunting and hawking with, too, and I’ve had some very pleasant times just hanging out with him and Delia and the children and sometimes his current boyfriend. It’s only taken fifteen years for us to reach the stage of exchanging BFF confidences. Delia must be mellowing me at last.

“Which reminds me,” she said to him. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to do for a while, when there was time. There won’t be any unless I make the time, so . . . Rigobert, stand witness for me, would you? Since we’re waiting for the Count anyway.”

“At your command, my lady,” he said, doffing his Montero and bowing slightly; they were of roughly equal status as nobles, but her appointed Crown office as Grand Constable was higher than his as Marchwarden of the peaceful southern flank of the Association.

She glanced around and called sharply: “Armand! Rodard! Attend me!”