While she did not think herself even half the genius of her father or mother, that still left her, in her own opinion, as someone more petent than most. However, she did not rely on that in her pns.

  So it came as a surprise when her performa the celebration had produced a more immediate result than she had thought.

  “Sir Michel, my apologies I could not meet at a sooner date,” she said, theured at the food on offer. “Please, do sit. I hope my guests would five if I may have a snack here and there. It is, well, Bavaria does not offer its usual hospitality at this time.” She finished with a smile, into which she snuck a small cracker with cheese.

  Michel chuckled and, shaking his head, gave the young man at his side a hearty pat on the back. “No apologies necessary. May I introduce My Lady to my nephew, Heinrich, though we have taken to calling him Henry after his time in Engnd.”

  “A pleasure to make sir’s acquaintance,” she said to the man, bowing her head.

  He replied in kind, an at to his void a bit of a rasp.

  “My sister’s son,” Michel said. Leaning forward, he paused to try a cracker himself. “Scrumptious. As I was saying, my sister’s son. She met an English merary while in Frand, well, such stories are as old as time. Once he passed, she returned with Henry and I took them both in. My wife has only given me daughters, so I rather took a liking to the d, haven’t I?”

  Henry gave a half-hearted smile. She didn’t think it insincere, notig instead how tense he seemed.

  “My dolences for sir’s father,” she said.

  He went to speak, then caught himself, a sed passing before he said, “Thank you.”

  While no time-frame had been given, she suspected this was a rather ret matter and that he likely knew German from his mother’s upbringing, perhaps otherwise preferring English. It then followed that he likely had little exposure to this kind of formality, teically not even of the nobility.

  However, such a thing did not bother her, instead sidering why Michel would present him and ing to two clusions—one of which she hoped Michel not foolish enough to propose. What she didn’t have to sider was the preparation of her se, su intricacy sed nature to her.

  “Mr Henry, would it be that you rather admired your father?” she asked.

  He warmed up at the question, answering with a nod before he then found his voice. “I very much did, madam,” he said.

  Immediately, Michel chuckled and gave Henry another heavy pat on the back. “That would be My Lady.”

  She waved him off, giving a wry smile. “Pray do not be too harsh on him. This is a good opportunity to practise, not easy to be a man of standing. Besides, if I am correct, would he not soon be calling me ma’am?”

  The versation pivoting, Michel’s reply died on his lips as he instead nodded. “Indeed, My Lady certainly knows how to pick up on things,” he said, ending in a chuckle. “What my nephew cks in manners, he makes up for in strategy and tactics. Isn’t that right?”

  What relief Henry may have felt by her mercy, he now lost, once more the focus. He held his tongue for the moment it took him to produ answer, and she patiently waited.

  “I htly say I know enough to make up for it, but I did often speak with my father,” he said.

  “He sells himself short, My Lady,” Michel said, still with a light tohat sounded as if on the verge of ughing.

  She politely smiled at him, then focused on Henry for a moment, only to then call on someone else. “Sir Ludwig, if you would join us.”

  From beside the doorway, the knight walked over and, at her gesture, sat at the st seat arranged around the table; while that happened, she snu a nibble of the se she had been preparing as they all spoke.

  Once he had sat down, she turo the guests. “Sir Ludwig has been talkihrough some matters of strategy and tactics over the weeks to pass the time. If I may question Mr Henry?” she asked, direg that question at Michel.

  “Of course! I am sure he will prove himself,” Michel said, grinning.

  So she turo Henry. “That is, would it be better to win a battle decisively, running down or capturing near enough the entire enemy army, but at the cost of half of your own army; or would it be better to win a ving battle, taking out half of the enemy’s army while only losing a quarter of your own.”

  Although Michel made some movements as if in thought himself, her focused stayed on Henry. As unfortable as he had looked from her gaze a moment prior, the question ensnared him, bringing his eyebrows together and a pout to his lips, his own gaze slipping away to ay spot.

  Then there was her knight, who hadn’t remembered teag her much of anything over the trip, yet found the question quite iing.

  Eventually, Henry gave an answer. “Without an army, the enemy only ask for peace, My Lady, so I would say that. My father always said that the loser of a war is the one who first asks for peace. In doing so, they show their weakness.”

  She showed no answer but for keeping the same gentle smile she had shown before. “That is indeed a wise answer, wouldn’t Sir Ludwig agree?” she said, turning to her knight.

  Pausing with a cracker a hair’s breadth from his lips, he nodded. “A merary captain, was he? It rather sounds like his ability may have been wasted, My Lady,” he said, then popped the cracker into his mouth, trying to eat it as quietly as he could.

  She noticed how Henry smiled at the praise for his father more than he did at her own praise for him. Also notig that Michel had something to say, she said, “Another question.”

  Michel held for a sed before defting.

  “Would you rather defend a hill or a river, and then which would you rather attack?” she asked.

  Again, Henry fell into thought. This time, she caught up on snag while she waited, paying little attention to him until he finally spoke.

  “It seems all too obvious that it is easier to defend a river and attack a hill,” he said, theedly added, “My Lady.”

  Although she smiled, he couldn’t meet her gaze. “Of course. Yet, how often does one see a castle built by the river, and how often does an army cross a river pared to besieging a castle?”

  He gave ay ugh and started looking away, only to catch sight of his uncle and so focused his gaze on somewhere closer to her. “My Lady is right, I didn’t sider that at all,” he said.

  Fidgeting in his seat, Michel said, “It was rather a trick question, wasn’t it?”

  “It is not that Henry’s answer is g. Indeed, he is correct if we are talking a battle. It is that, as Sir Ludwig told me, a battle and a war are simir, but different. These questions be thought of as seeing whether Henry thinks in terms of battles or wars, which would suggest the better position for him.”

  The knight once more showed no surprise at being a supposed font of wisdom, instead having another cracker, the first rather delicious.

  Meanwhile, Michel was suitably subdued by the answer. Henry, though, seemed flicted.

  She did not care about that at this time. “A st question,” she said, pausing for a sip of tea. “What is the purpose of a cavalry charge?”

  Her question hung in the air, even her knight falling into thought. It had the feeling of a trap with the answer dangling right in front of their eyes, especially with the st question taken into sideration, this not a simple question.

  However, Henry could only a. “To win the war.”

  “I would say a cavalry charge could only lose the war, given that the ruler or heir could be among those taken prisoner if a charge went awry,” she said lightly, theled down with her hands together as they rested on her knees. “Every a should be taken with winning the war in mind; however, its purpose is the intended rea it produces in the enemy.”

  She stopped there, as if giving him another ce to answer, yet he felt like she was simply giving him another ake a fool of himself. “Then it is to break the enemy,” he said without much thought.

  “One would certainly hope so,” she again said lightly, as if mog him.

  His hands ched and his tension now had nothing to do with feeling unfortable.

  “As, if winning a battle was as easy as being the first to the cavalry charge, wars would look much different. Sir Ludwig put it this way: we should first assume our enemy will react well before we hope they react poorly. In the case of a charge, we should assume it will force the eo take up a defensive position, such as f a pike square. These positioo be pad immobile, which rehem vulnerable to archers.”

  Henry could only keep his head bowed, while Michel cpped his hands together. “My Lady uands these matters so well, I feel a fool t my nephew before you,” he said, still with some humour in his voice.

  “Nonsense, Sir Michel. I would not expect Henry to have the same experience as a knight,” she said, pausing to give a nod to Ludwig. “Simirly, I am sure his father uood his role rather well. That is, I should apologise, perhaps asking inappropriate questions. I would quite like to find someone suitable to take leadership over the militia and Henry is certainly too inexperienced for this. If he would be willing, we could see about a captain’s position? Or is Sir Michel intending to tribute a knight?”

  Michel waved her off, shaking his head. “I thought to give the d some experience, My Lady, that his mother would not let him join his father’s pany. Of course, if he has the talent for it, we may see,” he said, ending in a lopsided smile.

  “Very well,” she said and, seeing no reason to tinue on this topic, moved on.

  With the knight retreating back to the door, the versation meandered for a while longer before her guests excused themselves. Ohey left, shown out by the butler, the knight returo the table, albeit staying on his feet this time.

  “Please, Sir Ludwig,” she said, gesturing at the chair as she had another nibble. “Pray tell, what are your impressions?”

  Hesitant, he asked, “Of Mr Henry?”

  She nodded.

  “He seemed irely hopeless, albeit g in a more refined education. I dare say a merary would impart questionable wisdom,” he said, scratg his head.

  She dabbed at her mouth, then put the napkin oe and pushed it away. Almost instantly, a maid picked it up, her footsteps the only sound in the room. Ohat sound died, Julia spoke.

  “I would guess that Sir Michel has not treated him well since his arrival, which has likely been pounded by how Sir Michel speaks of Mr Henry’s father,” she said, pausing for a sip of tea. “If put in charge of any number of men, I should think Mr Henry would seek to make a name for himself to vindicate his father. As, I fear the only name he should make is the one upon his headstone—unless he is suitably broken in.”

  “My Lady learned so much?” he asked, a genuine spirit of praise to his words.

  She held open her hands. “Perhaps, perhaps not. It is my duty to uand the nature of those who would serve me, is it not?” she asked, a humorous hint to her tohat did not go unnoticed by him.

  “Ah, yes,” he mumbled.

  “So it is that I try to pick up ohings. While I may be wrong, it is better to be wrong than to not think at all. Anyway, I have asked a dull question, so let me ask a more iing one. Sir Ludwig, how would you have answered my questions?”

  He stilled, put upon the spot after earlier thinking himself lucky to be the spectator in this matter. However, he had been asked, so he could only answer. “The first—it was about the preferred victory, wasn’t it?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Holy, I have no particur reason to disagree with his answer…” he said.

  She waited a beat, then asked, “However?”

  “If I sider when I would have this choice, well, it would be when the enemy is already breaking, is it not? At such a time, I would not be thinking of the war. That is simply the moment when one must charge.”

  She nodded along, then said, “A fair assessment.”

  Yet such words struck his pride heavily. “If I may, what answer would My Lady give?”

  Not an ued question, she didn’t hesitate, speaking her mind. “I could ceive of situations in whie or the other is preferable. However, what is iing is that such situations are not at all relevant to the battle itself. That is, whether or not one should it to breaking the enemy pletely should be known by the ander ahead of the battle, rather than decided in the moment.”

  A surprisingly deep answer, he mulled it over and found it in lih what she had mentioned earlier: that she sought to fill a position of leadership.

  Which flowed into the sed question. “What does My Lady have to say about attag and defending hills and rivers?” he asked, hoping to get ahead of her with this.

  She gave a humoured smile at his antics, but indulged him. “I suppose my earlier thoughts are not enough? Well then, it is again the case that, going into war, it should be known which of these must be done by ourselves and by the enemy. For example, in the case of the te Duke Bohemia, it could be seen which path he would take so many years in advahat Lord Bavaria’s predecessors built such sturdy fortifications. Rivers are much harder things to fortify, yet certain points may be fortified to influehe eo cross at a more preferable pce. Oher hand, knowing where our enemy has fortified, we may decide which points we would prefer to attack. In particur, we would seek out how we may avoid the most costly sieges.”

  Again, he found that her thoughts, while certainly more detailed this time, truthfully did still follow what she had said earlier. However, he did not have long to linger on this as her expet gaze fell upon him.

  “I feel as if anything I say adds nothing, My Lady,” he said, bowing his head.

  “Then I would have sir ahe st question,” she said with a knowing smile.

  Not for the first time, he felt as if he had walked into her trap, even such did versations not spared her wit. “My Lady sees the battlefield more clearly than I. Truly, I would have given a simir ao Mr Henry. My experience is rather limited.”

  She waved him off. “Please, do not think poorly of yourself over this. After all, at Gr Castle, I had yet to grasp this either. Horses have always been such skittish things to me that I had Lord Bavaria’s cavalry pced too far back. If the meraries hadn’t routed, the charge would have doher little since our forces had pushed them together.”

  After thinking this over, he asked, “Did Lord Bavaria not sider this, My Lady?”

  “Lord Bavaria had shown me deference as the one issioned by the King. If I had given him authority over the siege, it likely would have gone much differently. However, in this matter…” she said, then gave him a thin smile.

  Not a dim man, he had long siiced the timing of certais. “My Lady knew he had little time to waste?”

  She bowed her head. “Does sir think me deceitful for my as?” she whispered, an unusual frailo her voice.

  He went to speak, only to thier of it and iook a moment to carefully put together his answer. “My Lady has such responsibilities I ot begin to sider. There are certainly those who would judge My Lady for what she has done, yet I would look at how things have turned out and sider them for the best. The te Duke Bohemia succumbed to his own treachery and I bore wito the choice you gave Lord Bavaria.”

  “Thank you. That means more to me than you could know,” she said. “If you could give me some privacy? It has been a long journey.”

  “It has,” he said, bowing, thehe room, no more need for an escort.

  Ohe door closed, she straightened up with a bnk expression on her face.