Fabien’s voice was cold as iron. “The King shall have justice.”

“For all our sakes,” said Colbert, as he climbed the steps, “I hope you are right.”

Philippe waited in the carriage until his brother had entered the palace, then he got out and swept through the crowd with great flourish. Once inside, he strolled down the wide palace hallway, feeling much the conquering hero with his head high. Guards along the corridor began pounding their halberds upon the floor rhythmically as the King’s brother passed, the sound growing louder until it became thunderous praise for their returning champion.

Footmen at the door to Philippe’s apartment bowed then opened it on his approach. He walked in, still smiling, with Henriette not far behind.

Chevalier was lounging in a chair, one foot tapping the floor. “Welcome home,” he said.

Philippe reached for a leather satchel a servant had placed on the table. He opened it, withdrew a book, and handed it to Chevalier. “I brought you a present, rescued from a burning monastery. A volume of sacred anthems written by men of chastity.” Philippe poured himself a goblet of wine. He sniffed it then drank deeply. “Of course, I thought of you.”

“You know me so well,” said Chevalier, opening the book. At the top of the page was a symbol that looked like a lower case “h.” There were small markings at the top of every page, as well. “Someone’s scribbled in it,” he scoffed.

Philippe put the goblet down and snatched the book. “Then you shall have no present,” he said. He flung the book at Henriette. It barely missed her and fell to the floor. “Here, have a psalm.”

Chevalier grabbed Philippe’s arm and took him into the bedroom, closing the door behind them. I know what he wants, Philippe thought. I know what he needs, but this time will be different, oh, this time…

Chevalier shoved Philippe onto the bed. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for months!” he snarled. He straddled Philippe then reached down to remove his trousers. But in an instant Philippe grabbed Chevalier’s shoulders and flipped him over forcefully. Philippe was now on top, savoring Chevalier’s stunned expression. “Lies,” he shouted. “You wait for no one!”

“Amusing,” said Chevalier. “Now let me up.”

“Perhaps. When I am finished.”

“What on Earth has gotten into you?”

Philippe leaned in close. “That’s the fascinating thing about war. You learn so much about yourself. Do you know what I discovered on the line, my sweet Chevalier? When the enemy attacked, when the fighting was close and urgent and the blood flowed bright and red, in the glorious moments nearest to my death, my heart would thunder. My breeches would grow tight because the sword inside them was full and hard. Can you imagine to be in the middle of a battle and your prick is set to burst?”