He didn’t look at anyone for a few moments. He was thinking of his mother and his stepfather, how they would have felt, seeing this. Overawed, and so proud.

He had never done much to make them proud. It felt strange now, to be thinking that way, but it was true, wasn’t it? He wanted to swear, mutter something scurrilous. He didn’t. He didn’t do either.

—

Later, remembering, awake in the night, he gave up on sleep. He dressed and went down the wide staircase and outside, under the waxing moons and a clear night of stars. There were guards everywhere but they let him pass. One even held open the heavy door for him. He went down the steps to the gravel drive where they had stood when they’d arrived. There were campfires to his left, where the Maiden’s people were. She had evidently gone back to them, refused to stay in the hunting lodge.

He heard the door open and close again, footsteps behind him. He turned to look.

“A sword?” said Medor Colle. “Was I the only one who found that amusing, from you?”

“Only person who knew how ill-suited I am to using one?”

The other man came down the steps and stood behind him.

“Are you following me again?” Thierry asked.

“Assigned to guard, yes. You seem to be my current burden in life, Villar.”

“Even in the middle of a night? I’m sorry.”

The other man shrugged. “Not my worst-ever task.”

Thierry grinned a little. “The provost? He’s all right?”

“You didn’t hear what happened?”

“No. How would I have?”

“He’s not the provost anymore.”

“Oh, no,” Thierry said. “That’s—”

“No. No. De Vaux will be named constable of Ferrieres. Because we’re going to war again, and he was a protegé of Jean Montel, who was constable some years back. The king remembered that, apparently.”

Thierry thought about it. “And the current constable?”

“Has now been linked to the Duke de Barratin,” said Medor.

“Oh.”

“He’s in the Châtelet.”

“Oh,” Thierry said again. He thought some more. “You’ll…go north with de Vaux, to wherever the fighting is?”

Medor shook his head. “No. It seems I’ve been named provost of Orane for the time being.”

“For the time being?”

“That’s what they told me.”

“Good for you,” Thierry said, and meant it. “But that finishes you as my personal guard. Whatever shall I do?”

Medor snorted with amusement. Then, “Stay out of the city for a while yet, please. I’ll have enough to worry about.”

Thierry sighed. “They told me I’d probably have to do that. Any idea how much I hate it?”

“Some idea,” said the other man.

They were silent, looking at the campfires in the middle distance, and the stars.

Eventually Medor said, “We’ll have someone keep an eye on you, when you do return. That all right?”