"I sat up, fought against dizziness. Somewhere in the distance a single bell rang out the pattern for gold-candles and the beginning of another day. "Drink." The cup was near to hand. I rose on one elbow and reached for it. Some sips later I felt immeasurably better. My eyesight cleared, and so did my thoughts. I remembered the interlude during the night, and frowned across the fire at my companion. He looked exactly the same as ever--as if he'd sat up for a single time measure and not for an entire night. The plain hat, simply tied hair, ordinary clothing unmarked by any device; I squinted, trying to equate this slight figure with that arrogant plume-helmed commander riding on the ridge above the last battle. , I thought grimly. "You seem to know who I am," I said. "Who are you?" "Does it matter?" His use of my own words the night before surprised me a little. Did he expect flattery? Supposedly those so-refined Court aristocrats lived on it as anyone else lives on bread and drink. I considered my answer, wanting to make certain it was not even remotely complimentary. "I'm exactly as unlikely to blab our secrets to an anonymous flunky as I am to a Court decoration with a reputation as a gambler and a fop," I said finally. "'Court decoration'?" he repeated, with a faint smile. The strengthening light of dawn revealed telltale marks under his eyes. So he tired. I was obscurely glad. "Yes," I said, pleased to expand on my insult. "My father's term." "You've never wished to meet a...Court decoration for yourself?" "No." Then I added cheerily, "Well, maybe when I was a child." The Marquis of Shevraeth, Galdran's commander-in-chief, grinned. It was the first real grin I'd seen on his face, as if he were struggling to hold in laughter. Setting his cup down, he made a graceful half-bow from his seat on the other side of the fire and said, "Delighted to make your acquaintance, Lady Meliara." I sniffed. "And now that I've been thoroughly put in my place," he said, "let us leave my way of life and proceed to yours."