At supper, Vero sat to Jean’s left. The Marquise sat to his right, and the Lady Catherine sat beyond her. Seated to Vero’s other side was Ser Mattias.

The dining hall was massive, the largest she had ever seen. It was absolutely packed with people and the clamor was deafening. Vero was surprised that the domestic staff somehow found room to move back and forth, delivering platters of food to each table.

Vero measured her wine carefully. She already suspected Jean’s family held an unfavorable view of her. She was determined not to do anything to make a fool of herself.

She made polite conversation with Ser Mattias about nothing at all, the quality of the food and chandelier lighting, for instance. For the most part, she remained silent and listened to the others.

She learned that Ser Elan was the Comte de Argo, and that Jean had squired to him as a lad. His rank was lower than Jean’s, and the Fer-Mark was much larger and richer than Argo. Despite that, Vero noticed that Jean still called the Comte ‘Ser.’

The two of them were close, but quiet, allies. He had not accompanied Jean to Umbria, at the Lady Catherine’s request. Elan shielded Jean from his Velian enemies, while the bulk of his forces were away on campaign.

It was Ser Elan and the Lady Catherine’s intention to announce their engagement as soon as the yearlong mourning period for Jean’s father had passed. Ser Elan’s first wife died several years previous, according to Ser Mattias.

Jean made it known that the union had his full support.

Then they moved to the subject of Hollowstone. Jean’s chosen earl had passed away as the result of his illness. This was the first Vero had heard of his death.

She knew him only briefly. He had been a drunkard, but a happy drunkard. She was sorry to learn of his passing, and offered a quiet prayer for his benefit.

The Lady Catherine was of the opinion that the eldest son of the former lord now ought to be released. After swearing fealty to Jean before many well-notarized witnesses, he would be named earl. His vow should then be enforced by keeping his father as a hostage.

Jean replied that he would trust neither man again. Both father and son had willfully taken up arms against their rightful lord. As such, both had lost any right to their fief. They would be held captive, and – with a ransom set at thrice their genuine value – it was hoped they would remain prisoners in perpetuity.

‘Freddie’ had already arranged for a local barber-surgeon to be elected Lord-Mayor by the free peasants. According to Jean, the physician was originally a Velian, but had become very popular due to his heroic work saving lives after the battle. There would be no need for any ‘dirty tricks,’ as he put it. Jean could then take the city as a protectorate directly.

His mother was not placated until the Marquise voiced her own support for her husband’s design. A free city could seek representation in the Landtag, and stronger connections to the northern merchants would benefit the guilds. The Marquise also added that by leaving a man of low birth in control, few of their enemies would condescend to attempt wooing him from their service.

The Lady Catherine finally gave up the argument as lost.

The Duc de Emmoi went to the second table for a moment, where Father Ignacio, Ser Henri, and the vile Earl of Kaer Longus sat with a few others.

The Lady Catherine used the opportunity the moment he was gone, like she had been waiting for it. “I question your continued association with one of his majesty’s most public sycophants.”

“I’ve known Eamon since we were boys; public expressions and private misgivings often go hand in hand. And I know my brother-in-law may be paranoid, but I’ve already acknowledged him as the rightful sovereign of Velois. In truth, I really do have no secret designs on his throne. So, why should I end my friendship with a fellow, simply because he reports all I tell him to the King?”

“An honest man has no fear of scrutiny.” The Marquise remarked with an ironic grin.

The Lady Catherine was not amused. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard such fool headed children.”

Jean took a serious expression to soothe her concerns. “Mother, I am careful about what I allow him to see and hear. However, I do not see any reason to antagonize his majesty without need. Or to sacrifice the opportunity to control exactly what it is his spy reports to him.”

“My concerns aren’t only about what he reports, but what else he may-”

The Duc began to return to the table, and the Lady Catherine effortlessly changed topic to the fate of the remaining Umbrian captives. Vero had listened to the whole conversation unfold, and still barely noticed the transition.

Jean explained that he had heard rumors spread about the loyalty of each man. He wished to keep a very public affiliation with all of them for the time being, assuring everyone that they all still had his complete support.

His cousin voiced approval for such a magnanimous decision. Adding that he was certain that any such rumors against them were totally spurious, and directing a pointed look at Vero.

Vero said nothing.

It was comforting to know that the Duc did not have the full confidence of anyone at the table. He would hear about how matters had really gone after the fact.

“And regarding your other ‘traveling companion.’ How long will she be remaining?” The Lady Catherine had no bother whatsoever about Vero remaining within earshot before discussing her.

Stolen novel; please report.

Vero felt her cheeks burning.

“Oh…” Jean adopted his demeanor of breezy confidence. “…For several months, I should suppose…”

Several months? Longer than Vero had expected, in truth.

Still, hearing the termination of their relationship discussed in such easy terms made her shudder- but Jean was continuing to speak.

“…in the spring we’ve made plans for a hunting trip. And then I suppose that we shall probably be away together for some time before we return again.” He put his hand on her knee.

Of course, she had misunderstood. Vero did not like how high-strung she was becoming. Hanging on Jean’s every little phrase.

Discipline now, slayer. Discipline.

The Lady Catherine was still not amused. Vero began to doubt that anything ever did amuse her. “I meant; how long do you intend to use her as your mistress?”

“Permanently.”

“Be serious, please.”

“I am. I love her very much.”

Vero felt the walls of her emotional restraint tremble.

“A man is entitled to like whatever he wishes in a woman…” The Lady Catherine’s expression turned more dour. “But it’s not wise to associate too closely with blood magic. I advised your father against hiring this one’s former keeper as often as he did.”

“The matter is closed.”

“It is not closed. It’s one matter to hire a cunning woman to exorcise a spirit. It’s another completely to take her into your bed. Don’t think that rumors aren’t already flying from here to the Alfsteppe. Now, I’m certain we can find you a more appropriate woman with red hair and a body like a female athlete. Plenty of half-Pict girls like her are born in barns after every-”

“Enough!” The whole hall fell to deafening silence, as all eyes turned towards Jean. “I am the lord of this hall, and I have said that this matter is closed! You will respect that, or you shall recieve no further hospitality under this roof. Is that clear?”

The Lady Catherine chewed on her words for a long time before replying, “Yes, very clear.”

Conversation slowly flickered back to life, and Vero just overheard the Duc de Emmoi empathizing. “I know, auntie. I tried to warn him too.”

“I wish to apologize to you on my mother’s behalf.” Jean said, when they reached his private chambers.

Vero was only relieved the banquet had finally been dismissed. She had never felt so humiliated in her life.

“I knew she would not take well to you at first. But the deliberate cruelty she showed… it ill-becomes a woman of her station.”

“I would rather forget the whole matter.”

“As you wish.” Jean opened the door into the bedroom.

For a moment, Vero thought she had gone mad. The bed was a recreation in three-quarters size of the horse-head bed from the lodge. On closer examination, she determined that the posts were brass rather than gold.

Jean began to untie her dress. “This is the prince’s bed, built to resemble the other one you’re already familiar with. My father became accustomed to it as a boy. He kept it even after he became the lord of the house. I’ve slept in the larger bed ever since I was a child.”

“What unnecessary threads this web holds. To sate my curiosity, does a third copy of this bed exist somewhere? Perhaps hiding in the prince’s bedchamber today?”

“This is the prince’s bedchamber. I could never feel comfortable in the master bedchamber again. I gave it to Marie and her maids. I would have left the bed in there as well. But Marie prefers to share with her maids, and this frame only has room for three. Or four, if they be slender women, I suppose. But she has more maids than that, and they come in all shapes.”

Vero’s dress fell to the floor. “So, the beds changed places again. Only this time the antique went to your new residence, and this bed returned to its original home.”

“I’ve had the mattress replaced, but sometimes I shiver when I look at the headboard…”

“Well, if you feel a chill, you need only draw closer to me. It’s my professional obligation as a slayer to keep you safe from any restless spirits.”

He did as she suggested. “Your protection is a great comfort to me.”

“When I drop the shroud around us there shall be no one and nothing in the world at all, except you and I.”

“That has the sound of Elysium.”

Vero drifted off for some time, before waking with a pressing urgency in her bladder. Jean had fallen asleep nuzzling her chest. She eased his head onto a pillow before slipping out of bed.

There were many garderobes, but she could not remember how to find them in the dark. She knew the way to the great hall and main doors, so she intended to find a quiet corner outside to make water in.

“…Oh? I think she’s very pretty.” She heard Ser Frederic’s voice.

Vero shifted her steps onto the balls of her feet, and crept towards the open door into the main hall.

“Yes, but you fancy anything with a hole you can fill.” The Duc de Emmoi.

There was laughter. Several people appeared to have remained in the hall for more drinking, and intimate conversation.

“Yes, guilty as charged. I confess, I don’t see her with the same eyes our friend seems to. But her face is rather pretty.”

“You don’t fuck a lass in her face.” Ser Henri rumbled; it was the first time Vero ever heard him sound to be seriously under the effects of alcohol.

“You don’t.” Ser Frederic corrected at once.

“What?”

“Don’t let it concern you. Please, continue your point.”

“Hm!” The marshal grumbled something she could not hear. “…her hips are too narrow, no proper teats to speak of…”

“And that pretty face you speak of rests on a man’s shoulders-! Don’t you deny it!” the Duc added.

“Yes, too many muscles. Not seemly for a woman.” Ser Henri agreed.

“You can hardly understand what she says through that rural drawl-!”

“Now, now-” Ser Frederic interrupted the Duc. “You’re exaggerating. I’ve never had the slightest problem understanding her Velian. In fact, I find the lilting provincial accent very charming.”

“The woman speaks clearly enough, it’s true.” Ser Henri agreed.

The Duc hushed his voice, and Vero barely overheard him. “The chaplain says she’s a witch.”

“I don’t believe that a moment,” Ser Frederic said plainly.

“Nor I.” Ser Henri agreed.

“Nor I.” Vero had not realized that Ser Mattias was a part of their company until he spoke.

“He speaks up at last!” Ser Frederic hooted. “Go on Mattie. Come out of your cups and tell us what you think of the fair lady.”

“Me? I think she’s very fair indeed. It’s her eyes- I think… Like emeralds…”

“She saved his life-! That means nothing!” The Duc countered. “I would swear I loved a mule if it happened to kick me out of the way of certain doom.”

“I would hardly call it certain doom. If a woman was able to halt the animal, then I’m certain Ser Mattias would have managed an able defense.” Ser Henri assured the rest of the company, “The creature looked ill to me.”

“Yes! Mattie was just about to lay the beast low with javelins of lightning out of the sky,” Ser Frederic mused. “Presuming the beast’s heart didn’t spontaneously fail during the entire duo of seconds it would have taken to reach him.”

They moved to other topics, and Vero suddenly remembered that it was impolite to eavesdrop.

Her need to piss was also becoming more urgent. There was another exit through the kitchens nearby. She had much to consider while she relieved herself.

She was surprised to find Jean out in the hallway when she returned to their room. “There you are! I woke up… I didn’t know where you had gone.” He covered it well, but Vero thought she heard a touch of nervous tension in his voice. There was something uncontrolled in his manner she rarely saw from him.

“Oh, I was just turning wine into water.”

“Ah, I should have known. Shall we return to bed now?” There was still something mildly frantic in his voice, but it was fading.

Vero took him by the arm and led him back into the bedroom. She cradled him against her chest until she felt the tension bleed from his muscles.

Slowly, she drifted back to sleep.