He glanced over. Inger wasn’t really listening. Since departing the manor she had retreated ever farther into herself. She was realizing how much had settled onto her shoulders.

There was a mob at the palace gate. Nordmen agitators were trying to get them to break in. The Guard was showing admirable restraint by not firing on them. Inger snapped, “Wait! Let me try first,” as the company commander began dispersing for a charge.

“Your Majesty….”

“They think I’m dead. Seeing me may calm them down.”

Michael nodded. “I was right. You do have courage when it counts. Let her, Captain. Fiana used to do this sort of thing and people loved her for it.” Something touched his cheek coolly. He held out a hand. Sprinkles. He looked at the fire-bellied clouds over the Quarter. They seemed lower and fatter. “It may rain. Wouldn’t that be lovely?”

Inger looked at him strangely. “I’m scared to death, Michael. I wasn’t born without fear the way you were.”

Michael felt for more raindrops and replied, “That’s courage, Your Majesty. Courage is what makes you go ahead, despite your fear, and do what needs to be done. Ah. Comes the cold wind. Lovely indeed.”

Inger smiled weakly. “That’s supportive. A little oblique, but supportive.”

“I’ll go with you. Captain, how about half a dozen men, just to stay close?”

“Very well.” The captain called names. Inger started forward. Michael nudged his mount, caught up, smiling into the teeth of the rising wind. The six men hurried after him.

There was enough light round the gate, from torches in the mob and lights on the wall, for Inger to be recognized. Word spread quickly. Rioters quieted, gawked. Agitators gulped and fled into the shadows. People backed out of Inger’s path. A few dropped to one knee and bowed their heads. Someone atop the wall had the presence of mind to sound trumpets and add to the impact.

The mob began dispersing as the gate opened and twenty Guardsmen came forth. They began departing even faster when Michael took out a scrap of paper and nib of charcoal and pretended to be noting names. It was one moment when his reputation was a positive. As they passed beneath the wall, Trebilcock said, “They’ll spread the word. Things will start calming down. If a good storm breaks, so much the better. They’ll go home to get out of the rain.” Distant thunder punctuated his final remark.

“I hope so, Michael. I saw enough getting here to last me a lifetime.”

“Get used to it if you’re going to be Queen. These things happen. I’ve never figured out why. It’s like Vorgreberg has a fever it has to purge every so often.”

A Guardsman rushed up to Michael. “Captain Trebilcock. Doctor Wachtel would like to see you immediately.”

“About Prataxis?”

“Yes sir.”

“How is he?”

“Still breathing, sir, but that’s about all.”

“I’ll be right there. Captain, you know what to do. Inger, you want to start taking charge?”