\hypertarget{chapter-31-pursuits}{%
\chapter{Pursuits}\label{chapter-31-pursuits}}



\epigraph{``The man who sleeps with virtue finds the bed has no room for a
third.''}{Proceran saying}



``\emph{Fuck},'' I said.

Ever eloquent in times of trouble, that was me.

``I thought that might be your reaction,'' Masego noted.

I closed my eyes. Was there anything we could do about this? I wasn't
exactly overjoyed at the prospect of the elves getting their paws on the
crown of Spring, assuming they hadn't already. On the other hand, I
couldn't think of anything the Grand Alliance needed \emph{less} right
now than picking a fight with a power as strong as the Golden Bloom. I
didn't know anywhere near enough to be sure what to think about this.
What did they want the crown for, how important was it to them? A
decision on that scale couldn't be made without at least a solid guess
at the answers to those questions, and it wouldn't be made by me alone
anyway.

``Right,'' I said, opening my eyes. ``I need you to keep digging into
this, Hierophant. It's higher priority than Quartered Seasons, as least
for the next few days.''

The ritual wouldn't be happening anytime soon anyway: I doubted the
First Prince would accept even the slightest unnecessary risk to the
countryside of Procer. Not when the timeline to stacking the odds in our
favour as much as possible was perfectly acceptable from a strategic
view.

``There are limits to what I can accomplish,'' Masego said.

``I want you to find out if they already have the Spring crown,'' I
said. ``And at least check on the ritual sites, to guess at how much
force they've actually deployed out there.''

Likely on Proceran territory, too, not that elves tended to be
particularly concerned with any borders save their own. But of I was
going to have to break it to Cordelia Hasenbach that the Forever King
had sent agents into the Principate, I'd prefer to at least like to have
some estimates to offer her about how many of those there were.

``The latter I can assure, if not the former,'' Zeze said, pushing back
one of his elaborate braids. ``They're likely to resist my probing
attempts, however.''

The implied question there was, in essence, about how insistent he was
allowed to be in the face of that resistance.

``Don't harm anyone,'' I said. ``Try to avoid damage, if you can, and
whatever you do avoid starting a fight. Other than that, you're free to
use whatever means you want.''

``It ought to be an interesting intellectual exercise, at least,''
Masego mused. ``The nature of their defences is unique, which will force
a degree of unorthodoxy to my approach.''

``I'm sure you'll figure something out,'' I said, meaning every word.

I cleared my throat, after, hesitant to speak what I wanted to say.

``I don't need to tell you to stay safe, do I?'' I eventually asked.

He smiled.

``I'll take precautions, Catherine, there is no need to worry,'' Masego
said.

``We might have other ways to get to that information,'' I reminded him.
``You, on the other hand, can't be replaced.''

``I am fond of you as well, Cat,'' the blind man easily replied. ``Now
do be off. I'll not have you hovering about as I work, your presence
alone is enough to disturb all my precision instruments.''

Probably true, though that didn't mean that he wasn't just itching to
get me out of here just so he could get started on the latest
challenging task I'd presented him.

``Take care, Zeze,'' I quietly said.

To my surprise he placed a hand on my shoulder, if only fleetingly.

``And you as well,'' Masego seriously said. ``Hakram is wounded but you
are not alone. We are here if you need us.''

I breathed out, since I was a grown woman and getting moist eyes over
something this simple would be a little shameful. I left before another
burst of that disarming earnestness could scrape me even more raw,
returning to the cold halls of the Arsenal and the ever-increasing
amount of troubles awaiting me.

---

When I went to relieve Indrani from her watch over Hakram's bedside it
was past Noon Bell, so I returned her earlier kindness and brought a
meal with me.

Pork with garlic sauce, a loaf of brown bread and a large saucer of some
strange mix of oil, vinegar and olives. They were all Arlesite staples,
the mixture in the saucer meant for the bread to be dipped in, and I'd
grabbed a pair of apples to round the meal out. Archer was carefully
carving an arrow when I entered, eyes on the wood and the knife in her
hand carefully precise. Back in Callow this sort of work tended to be
done out of logs with an eye to making many and quickly, but Indrani was
rather more discerning with her own arrows: she picked the branches
herself, when she could, and saw to their carving personally.
Considering the rarity of some of the woods she used, that was only to
be expected. She tended to treat mass-made arrows with the same disdain
Masego reserved for massed Legion sorcery, and for much the same
reasons.

``I get to be served by a queen,'' Indrani bragged, even as I began
unpacking the meal. ``How many people can boast that, I wonder?''

Out of petty spite, I left her half of the meal on the table and only
arranged mine on a plate. I offered her a pretty smile.

``Not you, for one,'' I sweetly said, and sat down with plate.

Huh, I'd been skeptical about the oil and vinegar but it was actually
pretty good. Made the brown bread better than butter would have, for
sure, and while I wouldn't trust Procerans to make a halfway decent stew
they were admittedly good at roasts like the pork one.

``You're a terrible friend,'' Indrani complained, rising to her feet.

``You taught me well,'' I agreed.

She helped herself to her meal with a snort, the two of us settling
comfortably in our seats. We were both hungry enough that conversation
waited until we'd polished off our meals, though even as I tore into the
pork I found my eyes drifting to Hakram's unconscious body. I missed him
even more sharply now that I needed advice. Him and Akua, I was forced
to admit, as I'd come to rely on the two of them quite a bit in Hainaut.
Bringing Akua Sahelian into the Arsenal would have been ill-advised,
though, and not just because it'd strip the Hainaut front of its sole
high calibre spellcaster -- it'd been as much the number of heroes
awaiting here and the rulers I'd be meeting as the strategic
considerations that'd guided my decision.

``You look glum again,'' Indrani said, licking the garlic sauce off her
fingers.

``Quartered Seasons had a major breakthrough,'' I admitted. ``But it's
also looking very likely that the elves are trying for a fae crown.''

She let out a lot whistle.

``A nasty people, the elves,'' Archer opined. ``They never came after
Ranger while I was in Refuge, but about a decade earlier a few of the
Emerald Swords tried to ambush her in Bayeux.''

The Emerald Swords, huh? Hadn't ever really given those any thought, to
be honest. Their strength was quite literally legend, though there were
rumoured to be no more than ten. Each was supposed to be worth a small
army, the Forever King's blunt instruments in eradicating what he could
not stand. They supposedly rarely left the Golden Bloom, like most
elves.

``I don't know what they want the crown for, but it worries me,'' I
admitted.

``Also irks you something fierce, I'd wager,'' Indrani smiled. ``They're
scavenging power they had no hand in laying low.''

I did not answer, looking away. She wasn't wrong. That the Forever King
thought he could sit out the war against the Dead King and use the chaos
to go grabbing mantles of power while we were busy fighting for
Calernia's survival was not endearing the man to me. If the elves had
played a role in the end of the old Courts of Arcadia I would have kept
my mouth shut, but they were just being opportunistic vultures.

``We can't afford to push the Golden Bloom too far,'' I reluctantly
said. ``They could make keeping what we still hold in Hainaut a
nightmare with little effort and if they send out the Emerald Swords
we'd have to pull our best fighting Named from the fronts to be able to
handle them.''

``I figure the prick out in the Bloom thinks the same, Cat,'' Indrani
said. ``Remember, the Dead King made their king's son into a Revenant
that you put down at Third Liesse. There's no love there, and the elves
have to know that if the screw with the Alliance too much they're
helping along `Ol Bones.''

``They're elves, Indrani,'' I said. ``Their take on foreign policy is
shooting even the \emph{birds} that come within a mile of their forest.
I'm not saying they're idiots, but I'm honestly not convinced the
Forever King wouldn't be in favour of a few million uppity humans being
eaten before the Hidden Horror is driven back.''

``They haven't brought their lands back into Creation, so maybe you're
right,'' Archer said. ``Mind you, there's at least one upside to that.''

My brow rose questioningly. I couldn't really see one, to be honest. The
Grand Alliance had neither the leverage nor the strength to spare to do
anything about this, while just letting it happen seemed like a mistake.

``Might be Duchess Kegan won't be so eager for Daoine to go independent,
when she hears about this,'' Indrani said. ``Elves were bad enough on
their own, but elves with a godhead? I don't care how large the Watch
gets, it'll be like fielding as shield wall of goblins against a pack of
ogres.''

I mulled on that a moment, even as I chewed on the bread. The Deoraithe
were masters of defensive and irregular warfare, but as a rule they
tended to be weaker on the offence. Restraint and their isolationist
streak had still earned them an impressive military reputation, but the
era where a duchy's army could stand up to those of the greater powers
of Calernia was coming to an end. The Conquest had proved that massed
mages and siege engines combined with heavy infantry could crush armies
in the mould of the Old Kingdom's, and the rest of Calernia hadn't lain
asleep in the decades that followed. Procer had fielded large units of
priests and mages with its field armies during the Tenth Crusade, a
significant departure from their old way of making war, and the years of
fighting against Keter were further refining their methods.

Even the Dominion was starting to change its doctrine, using its limited
numbers of Lanterns and Binders to crack open enemy lines much in the
same way that the Legions of Terror used scorpions and goblin munitions.

That was the death knell of Daoine's military relevance, whether Duchess
Kegan realized it or not. Putting together the Army of Callow had taught
me how damned expensive an army of that kind was to raise and keep in
fighting fit, and it simply wasn't a financial burden that the Duchy of
Daoine's revenues was capable of supporting. The Watch were devils on
the field, and arguably some of the finest foot on Calernia, but you
couldn't win a war with them. House Iarsmai's historical military
prudence was, at least in part, flowing from that realization. The issue
was that, when everybody's military doctrine was done with its growing
pains in twenty years, the Watch wouldn't even allow Daoine to win
\emph{battles}. Throw in that the enemy whose destruction was at the
heart of their culture might raise its ruler to a form of lesser
godhood, and Indrani could very well be correct.

The Grand Duchy of Daoine might just find the world outside a lot colder
than expected, after leaving the Kingdom of Callow's protective embrace.

``If we can keep Daoine in the fold I won't complain,'' I said. ``Though
that should be Vivienne's situation to handle, in the end.''

If we weren't all dead, by then I was likely to have abdicated. Besides,
if Vivienne could begin her reign with the diplomatic feather in her cap
of having kept the Deoraithe part of the kingdom she'd have an easier
run of things going forward. I'd taught the last remains of Callowan
nobility the dangers of trying to go against a popular queen backed by a
powerful royal army.

``She seems to have a handle on things so far,'' Indrani shrugged. ``And
if we win against the Hidden Horror, it'll be a long time before the
shine of that wears off. Hells, we might actually get a few decades of
peace.''

I was not nearly so optimistic. Too many parts of Calernia had only
heard of the Dead King without ever catching sight of his armies or his
monsters. The League of Free Cities hadn't even bothered to stop warring
against itself as thousands of soldiers from an large coalition died to
hold the defences to the north, and Praes was knee-deep in a civil war
being prosecuted at what I could only call a \emph{languid} pace. The
rulers who'd seen the worst of the war would come out of it reluctant to
war against those who'd been their comrades in the face of annihilation,
but that'd only go so far. One of my hopes was that the construction of
Cardinal would sap interest in resuming old skirmishes, given the many
opportunities it represented, and that the city-state's territory would
serve to settle at least some of the people whose lives had been upended
by the wars.

``We'll see,'' I replied. ``Even the peace years ought to be quite a
ride, after a war like this one.''

The afternoon passed slowly, after that, as the two of us sat and
talked. Several messengers came to find me over the following bell, as
I'd made it clear that the infirmary would be where I stayed, but there
was nothing truly urgent to see to. Some concerns about the current
tonnage of water that my rank obligated the stewards to inform me about,
then a bold request for funding by a Proceran mage that I sent to Roland
after skimming and finding the idea worth investigation. The closest
thing to a crisis came an hour before Evening Bell, when I was informed
that someone had been caught trying to enter one of the restricted zones
of the Arsenal. It turned out to be a young couple trying to sneak off
for a tryst, and I was informed they were very apologetic when they
learned they'd triggered an alarm ward in their attempt to find a dark
corner.

Their pays were docked, and in a fit of mercy I spared the two men the
necessity of having to explain themselves to me in person. I sent
written note warning that a repetition of the mistake would see them
suspected of espionage, which should have them thinking twice about
where they sneaking off.

``You're enjoying this,'' Indrani accused, afterwards.

My lips twitched treacherous.

``It's been a long time since I was asked to weigh in on things
so\ldots{}'' I trailed off.

``Easy?'' she suggested.

``Straightforward,'' I corrected. ``The lower stakes are a relief.''

The knowledge that the worse I courted if I made a mistake was passing
embarrassment instead of the usual lives lost by the hundred. I enjoyed
the calm all the more for the knowledge it was soon to come to an end.
While the Arsenal might be its own little hermit kingdom, isolated from
much that went on beyond its walls, the broader world was coming towards
it. Tomorrow would bring the First Prince and the White Knight, and with
them a great many troubles that for now still seemed on the horizon. The
Painted Knife was nearing, too, and the envoys of the Titanomachy. Any
of those visits would have been an event, but all of them in swift
succession promised to be more of a circus. While I lost myself in
thought, Indrani groaned and rose to her feet.

``Headed somewhere?'' I asked.

``Having supper with Masego,'' she said. ``You're welcome to come along
but I'll be carving and he'll be reading.''

``When you put it like that, how could I resist,'' I said, rolling my
eyes. ``Go on, have fun.''

It left a strange taste in my mouth to say that. It wasn't jealousy,
it'd essentially be the same as getting jealous Vivienne was having
dinner with Hakram, but it was\ldots{} odd. The ease she'd said that
with, the way she'd not needed to check he'd be there or even just
inclined to have dinner with her -- all those things spoke of a habit.
It wasn't the first time they were doing it, and they'd been doing it
for long enough they considered it a given it'd happen. It was oddly
domestic, given who they were. I waved out Indrani, and idly wondered if
perhaps I was a little jealous after all. Not of either of them, but
perhaps of what they had. It'd been a long time since I'd had that level
of intimacy with someone.

Not since Kilian.

I wasn't sure if I wanted that, and I knew I simply didn't have the
\emph{time} to afford something like it these days. Yet the easy way
that Indrani had displayed a sort of intimacy I'd have not believed her
capable of when we first met had me uneasy. My friends were changing and
making lives for themselves while I swung my sword at the world trying
to make it a little more like I wanted. My eyes moved to Hakram's, his
chest rising and falling in steady rhythm as the spell took care of
keeping his lungs going. Sometimes the changes weren't for the best. A
knock on the door -- too respectful to be Archer's -- caught my
attention and I invited in the messenger. A report from the captain of
the garrison, I noted with a raised brow, and one that bore his official
seal.

I cracked it open and as I scanned the lines I had to forcefully keep my
fingers from clenching. The Mirror Knight had tried to enter the Red
Axe's cell, insisting even when the guards refused to let him in. It'd
come close to violence before he walked away. I folded the parchment,
ignoring the messenger's nervous gaze. Someone had informed Christophe
de Pavanie that I'd gone to speak with the Red Axe with Prince Frederic,
I decided. This was not a coincidence. It also meant the Mirror Knight
had friends within these walls that were willing to stretch the bounds
of propriety to help him. I put away the parchment and dismissed the
messenger without sending an answer to the report. I'd been warned of
the incident, and since it'd not come to violence for now there was
little I could do.

Not, that wasn't true. There were more than a few things I \emph{could}
do, but there was nothing I \emph{should} do. At this point,
overreaching would be dangerous. Restraint now could be used later to
make the point to the White Knight that I'd tried patience only to find
it ever more stringently tested.

Restless at the inaction, I rose to my feet and after patting Hakram's
shoulder took to the halls. I had no precise destination in mind, though
that parchment was burning a hole in pocket. I'd not been the only one
to go to speak with the Red Axe, I considered. Maybe I should mention
this to the Prince of Brus as well. I'd already been headed vaguely in
the direction of the Alcazar, anyway. Halfway there I forced myself to
admit that I wasn't going there to tell him about that report, or at
least not \emph{only} that. It'd do me no good to pretend otherwise.
There were risks, although it wouldn't be difficult to weave an illusion
around myself that'd ensure I wasn't seen going there. And if I was
going to do this, which the way my teeth were worrying at my lip were
telling me I was, then \emph{now} would be the time. Before Hasenbach
got here and the Arsenal was swarmed with guards and watching eyes.

I felt myself reach for the Night, beginning to weave an illusion, and
admitted to myself I'd already made my choice.

I made sure to be seen returning to my rooms before backtracking under
veil of Night, remembering the way to the Prince of Brus' quarters well
enough from the last time I'd visited. If I'd been a few years younger I
might have hesitated before knocking on the door, but in that sense
Indrani had been good for me. A few moments passed and I felt a little
like a fool. He might not be there at all, given that it was not so
late. Perhaps it might be better if I left. Then the door was cracked
open and Frederic Goethal curiously looked out, blue eyes slightly
widening in surprise as he saw me. His blond locks were slightly
dishevelled, and above the belt he wore only a loosely buttoned white
cotton shirt that did nothing to hide the kind of muscles that came only
from a warrior's life.

``May I come in?'' I asked, doing nothing at all to hide the way I was
looking at him.

Frederic of Brus's eyes darkened with something that I was rather
looking forward to seeing unleashed.

``Please do,'' he replied.

The door closed hurriedly behind me and I came closer, noting he was
just tall enough I had to lean up to kiss him. His hand found my hip,
but it was my lips that found his in a soft, tentative kiss as I tiptoed
upwards. A brief thing, and I withdrew to find his eyes still closed.

``You'll do,'' I decided, pushing him back against the wall.

There was nothing tentative at all about what followed.

---

I woke up not long past Midnight Bell, pleasurably spent and sweaty.
Frederic, still deliciously naked under the twisted-up sheets, was still
asleep at my side. It'd be a mistake to spend the night, given the risk
of being seen, so reluctantly I wriggled out of his embrace and sat up
on the bed. It was enough to wake him and he stretched out in a way that
pleasantly captured my interest for a few moments. Getting my hands on
his body had done nothing to damper my appreciation for it. Much the
opposite, as it happened.

``Restless or leaving?'' he asked, voice still husky from sleep.

``Leaving,'' I said. ``As soon as I can find my clothes, anyway.''

Where they'd ended up had not been a priority around the time I was
taking them off.

``How soon you dispose of me,'' Frederic teased. ``Did I disappoint?''

``I was vocal enough with my opinion you shouldn't need to fish for
compliments,'' I drily said.

``One enjoys hearing those anyway,'' he grinned.

It'd been a while since I'd been with a man, but I'd definitely enjoyed
returning to that brand of diversion. Thinking of it was enough to stir
my interest again.

``Considering you're Alamans, I expect I won't have to mention that this
is best kept under wraps,'' I said.

He looked rather amused.

``This is hardly my first tryst, though it has certainly been a\ldots{}
vividly memorable one,'' Frederic said, sitting up in the bed as well.
``I understand that some passions are meant to remain discreet. I'll not
moon after you like a green boy either, if that is your worry.''

``I'd tolerate a bit of mooning,'' I grinned. ``It'd be rather
flattering. But only a bit.''

``I'll see what I can arrange,'' he quietly laughed.

It really was shame it'd be genuinely terrible politics for even the
suspicion of an affair between us to fall on either, I mused. I'd have
thoroughly enjoyed more than one visit to this bed. Safer to cut this
after one night, though, I knew. I'd taken risks enough already. On the
other hand, I mused as I tossed aside the sheets and pushed him back
against the headboard and got on top of him, the night wasn't quite over
yet.

``One more for the road,'' I suggested.

The gasp that followed was not one of disagreement.

---

The following day, the First Prince and her escort arrived several hours
before the White Knight and still Hanno set foot in the Arsenal before
Cordelia Hasenbach.

With the wards back in order scrying relays to Creation had been
established again, so the Procerans had known in advance that we'd had
not only a fae incursion but several demons running loose not so long
ago. Considering that the First Prince would be a great deal easier to
kill than Hanno and the that magnitude of the political crisis that'd
followed would be\ldots{} significant, I'd not been offended when her
personal guards had not taken me to my word when I'd told them the
Arsenal was secure. A company of mages and soldiers had swept through
the attainted areas with a fine comb, though I doubted that any mundane
mage out of the Principate would able to catch something that the likes
of Masego or Roland hadn't.

While I debated heading to the Arcadian waystation where the First
Prince was awaiting the word to go on ahead from her people, I
ultimately decided against it. Hasenbach liked her ceremony, and I might
as well ensure I had her in as pleasant a mood as I could before the
negotiations started. There was precious little of what I wanted to
discuss with her that could be spoken about in such a public place,
anyway. To my disappointment I learned that Vivienne would only be
arriving tomorrow, having been slowed on the march by sudden rains
that'd flooded the roads, but I'd lived without seeing her for several
months already. A day more or less wouldn't make much of a difference.

Besides, I kept busy: while security was an issue for Hasenbach the
White Knight breezed right past her after a few greetings and proceeded
straight into the Arsenal. I dragged Archer with me to watch my back,
leaving as a lookout as I limped my way down a long set of stairs. The
White Knight came out of the translocation ritual in the same wide room
where the Mirror Knight had nearly drawn on me less than a week ago, a
single mage in Arsenal livery at his side. Hanno looked tired, eyes
pulled tight, and was leading his horse by the reins. He'd ridden hard,
I decided, after hearing about the attack. Even odds he'd even ridden
through the night on the last stretch, for him to be visibly tired: it
wasn't something that came easy, in Named of his calibre.

``Black Queen,'' he greeted me.

``White Knight,'' I replied. ``I'm pleased you came quickly.''

``I can only wish I'd been there when the attack happened,'' Hanno
frankly said. ``None of the affairs that kept me from travelling with
you were even near important enough, seen in retrospective.''

``Hindsight's no cure for bad luck,'' I shrugged.

A sharp whistle sounded from the heights above, a sign from Archer we
were about to have company. Indrani wouldn't have bothered for guards or
diplomats, which meant Named.

``I'd wager that's my latest headache trudging towards us,'' I said. ``I
tried my hand at handling it and failed, White Knight, so it'll be yours
to deal with.''

Hanno's brow rose.

``I thank you for your assistance,'' he said, turning to offer the mage
a smile.

She blushed, much to my amusement, and replied by espousing the virtues
of duty before scurrying away. However nicely phrased, it'd very much
been a dismissal. I eyed him speculatively. Heroes tended to be popular
with women -- and men, when so inclined -- but I'd never know him to
keep company. I didn't believe him to be like Masego, disinclined
towards the act, but neither did I believe him so discreet he would have
been able to keep a bedmate quiet.

``I received some interesting missives from the First Prince, when I
passed by a scrying relay yesterday,'' Hanno said. ``Including a subtle
but rather firm request that I take Christophe of Pavanie `in hand'.
I've rarely known you to be in such swift accord with Cordelia
Hasenbach, Catherine.''

Well now, wasn't \emph{that} interesting? Frederic hadn't been
exaggerating when he'd said that the First Prince saw the Mirror Knight
as a potential threat because of his closeness -- and occasional
nakedness -- with the House of Langevin. If she was willing to start
putting pressure on the White Knight to intervene before he'd even
gotten to the Arsenal, then she was serious about curbing dear
Christophe. While I'd only extend so much trust to Cordelia over much of
anything, I was rather pleased at the notion that for once she might be
entirely on my side -- if largely for her own reasons.

``He still has the sword, and now he's making demands,'' I grunted.

``I've never known him to be prone to overstepping, only clumsy in
expressing himself,'' the White Knight calmly said. ``As for the
Severance, while it should be temporarily returned to the Arsenal I can
see no better wielder for it.''

I could think of several, including the very man speaking to me. Those
two had shared a front in Cleves, I recalled, before the Salian Peace
and Callow joining the Grand Alliance. There might be a degree of trust
there, the sort earned in battle. It didn't worry me overmuch, in truth,
considering that Hanno was remarkably clear-eyed when it came to most
things. Still, a warning was in order.

``Be careful with him,'' I said. ``I don't think you'll find him all
that pliable.''

``Pliable is something a lord wants in a vassal,'' Hanno said. ``I am
not one, nor he the other. All I need of him is reason and a willing
ear, neither of which he's ever failed to offer.''

Our little chat was interrupted by armoured boots on stone as the Mirror
Knight, in full armour and with the Severance at his hip, briskly began
to make his way down the stairs. Looking rather uncomfortable and
noticeably unarmed, the Blade of Mercy followed behind him. Christophe
de Pavanie's green gaze was distinctly unfriendly as he took in my
presence, though it stopped short of a glare and he began to pointedly
ignore my presence. The boy at his side looked away from me when I
glanced.

``White Knight,'' the Mirror Knight began the moment his boots reached
the bottom of the stairs. ``Your presence gladdens me.''

A long moment of silence followed when Hanno did not reply. The White
Knight eventually cocked his head to the side.

``I had assumed,'' Hanno slowly said, ``that you were not done in your
greetings. Was I incorrect?''

Huh. I threw him an appreciative glance for that even as Christophe's
cheeks reddened.

``Wouldn't be the first lack of manners from him,'' I idly said. ``I
doubt it'll be the last. We'll speak later, White Knight.''

``Until later then, Queen Catherine,'' Hanno replied with a slight bow.

I began to limp away, without further ado, and though the Mirror Knight
began to say something that might have been a belated greeting I did not
turn to hear it or bother to lend an ear. I was almost hoping he tried
to pull something of the sort in front of Proceran diplomats, who'd be
genuinely appalled at the sight. They were known to be polite to even
people they despised, after all. Archer was awaiting at the top of the
stairs, leaning against a wall. She'd kept the room below in sight the
whole time, taking her duty of watching my back just as seriously in
this place as she had in the tunnels of the Everdark. Different dangers
here, perhaps, but barely fewer.

``So?'' I asked as she pushed off.

``They were hurrying,'' Indrani said. ``So they weren't just coming to
greet Shiny Boots, I'd bet.''

That soured the pleasant mood the night's exertions had left me in, even
after this little interlude. They'd hurried because they'd heard I
myself was there to receive Hanno, then. For them to have been
forewarned, it meant they had more friends in the Arsenal than I'd hoped
they would have. Not necessarily Named, as the Mirror Knight's slaying
of no less than seven demons had earned him a great deal of admiration
with soldiers and mages from the rank and file, but I wouldn't dismiss
the notion outright either.

``With Hasenbach joining us tonight the number of soldiers in here will
swell,'' I said. ``We'll be able to spare some for more private duties.
Reach out to Lieutenant Inger, Archer. I require some eyes.''

With the First Prince's arrival, I finally had a pretext to meddle with
the garrison without raising an eyebrow -- given that Hasenbach would
have a soldier escort of her own, it'd raise no eyebrows if I arranged
one for myself out of garrison troops. I didn't intend to use mine
guarding doors, though. I wanted to know who the Mirror Knight would
speak with, and when. It would be imprudent to begin acting on anything
before making sure how much support he had, exactly.

``I'll take care of it,'' Indrani said, pushing off the wall. ``While
you were down there a messenger came by for you, though. I took the
message for you.''

She fished out of her coat a small folded parchment, handing it over.

``And what's inside?'' I asked.

Neither of us bothered to pretend she wouldn't have opened that without
the slightest hint of hesitation.

``The First Prince of Procer is inviting you to dinner,'' Indrani said,
waggling her eyebrows lasciviously.

Considering I could no longer claim to have never slept with Proceran
royalty, answering that insinuation with even mock indignation would
have, uh, weaker foundation than I might be used to.

``Well,'' I said, ``I suppose I'm about due to have an exquisite meal
spoiled by politics.''
