When David and the duke arrived at the old farmhouse where the werewolves had been put up, the door stood open. The whole pack was assembled inside the only room, clearly waiting for them, forming a half circle around the door. They were all in their human form, albeit in different stages of “fully dressed.” Pierre wore one of his nightgown-dresses, a look he shared with Gertrude, Estelle, and Annabelle. Leon and Alister hadn’t bothered with more than a pair of pants, while Remy was closing the buttons on his jacket and looked ready to do a press interview. The others ranged somewhere in between.

Annabelle’s eyes were fixed on George Louis, but the rest of the pack was more focused on David, only glancing at the duke. Had they heard them talk on the way?

“Your Highness, may I introduce Pierre, leader of this pack,” David said. He named the other werewolves, before adding: “I believe you all heard of Duke Stuard by now?”

Pierre nodded slowly. A faint smile crept onto his face, and he stepped forwards and offered his hand to shake. “Pierre deChamps, to be precise, Your Highness.”

David was pretty sure he could see the werewolves gloat as George Louis pressed his lips together. Maybe there was even a hint of respect when the duke reached out anyway for the briefest of handshakes.

So they had heard their conversation outside.

“It’s our honour,” Pierre said, smile widening. “But may I ask what brings you out here, Your Grace?”

“I wanted to meet our newest allies, of course,” George Louis said, visibly catching himself. “And I was hoping to speak to Annabelle.” He finally glanced in her direction. “Since Lord Feleke talked about bringing her to the palace around half moon.”

“Annabelle?” Pierre frowned. “Why her specifically?”

George Louis paused, looking from werewolf to werewolf. “She—did not tell you?”

“Tell us what?”

Before George Louis could answer, Anabelle ducked her head: “He. My husband,” then corrected herself: “Was. My husband.”

Alister growled at Annabelle’s word, and the rest of the pack stared at her in shock. George Louis took a step backwards and David, too, lightly touched his thumb and middle finger together, trying to hide the instinct of going for the crossbow on his back. He had expected them to know.

Remy was the first to find his voice. “You never mentioned you were that high nobility,” he complained.

Pierre ran a hand through his scarce hair and sighed. “You didn’t tell us you used to be a hunter until you had known us for over a year, Remy,” the elder pointed out. “I suppose I’m glad we’re finding this out here in private. Am I correct in assuming that this isn’t something you want to become common knowledge, Lord Feleke?”

David glanced at George Louis. He half expected the duke to complain about not being the one asked this question, but George Louis just pressed his lips to a thin line, fists clenched behind his back.

“Ideally not, no,” David said. “At least not right now.”

He looked from face to face, but it appeared the human politics weren’t all that interesting to the werewolves. They looked at Annabelle with envy instead.

“Who else are you taking to the palace on half moon?” Leon asked. “Just her?”

“I was thinking Rémy and Annabelle on half moon, maybe one more. Then another two or three a couple of days later, and the rest of you on new moon. I was also thinking about taking some of you into the city at night, to patrol with the city guard perhaps, but I’m still working on that bit.”

He stepped forwards, further into the room to discuss who exactly would be going when. Annabelle headed for the door, but George Louis followed David, moving in so close their shoulders brushed.

David frowned at the duke, who stepped awkwardly from one foot to the other, but made no move to go with Annabelle. “Are you waiting for me?”

“No, I’m waiting for fairer weather. Of course I’m waiting for you.”

“Right.” David sighed and managed not to roll his eyes. “All right, I guess we’ll talk about the details later.”

As soon as he moved, the duke hurried past him out the door, onto the little path they had just walked up. Annabelle followed more slowly. She kept a few steps of distance from David, but asked: “My son?”

“You’ll see him at half moon, if all goes to plan.”

As a she-wolf.

“We can possibly arrange a meeting at my family’s home afterwards, so you can talk to him. If George Louis agrees, that is. We could have all the Feleke Four there, though,” he added louder.

“I was expecting them to be in attendance at the palace, anyway,” George Louis sniffed.

He slowed down enough for them to catch up, but kept his distance, just like Annabelle. David went down the middle of the road, with the other two of them just barely staying out of the ditch. He wondered what they would look like for the uninformed watcher. The old farmhouse the werewolves had been given sat at the very edge of the Demsarais holdings, next to wide pastures currently lying fallow. Still—there were people working on the fields in the distance.

He swung down towards the little stream running through the estate, further away from the people. The rich plantations had reminded him of what his father had said in Eoforwic a while ago.

“That’s an option, of course,” he said. “However, you’re only paying one of us so far. You might want to remedy that.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“We did lose our main source of income a couple of years ago,” David pointed out. “And Andrew wanted out of the business even before then. You want his time, you won’t go amiss with offering an incentive.”

“Is that why I have seen so little of your family, really? Money?”

“What were you expecting? We have lives outside of your grand plans. Father is keeping an eye on his grandchildren. And Nathan has always hated the palace. ”

“Grandchildren,” George Louis repeated. “What? Which one of you—and who’s the mother?”

“Greg and Morgulon.”

“They good?” Annabelle asked.

“They’re doing fine, yes, thank you for asking.”

“You’re pulling my leg,” George Louis complained.

“Not at all.”

David caught the ghost of a smile on Annabelle’s face. He felt like he was going to get a kink in his neck, looking back and forth between them. Neither of them was looking or talking directly to the other.

They weren’t going to get far this way.

“Look, if you two want some privacy…” he tried again.

“No,” George Louis snapped, in the same instance as Annabelle said: “yes.”

She glared at her husband—ex-husband. “I. Don’t bite. Why so scared?”

“Don’t tell me you weren’t scared when that thing attacked you. And you’re…”

“What?” Annabelle barked the word, halting a step, closing her eyes. David could only imagine how hard this was for her. “I. Am nothing. Like that monster,” she finally spit out.

“You are a werewolf.”

“And he’s a hunter.” She pointed at David. “Werewolf hunter. I am scared. Yes. Everyone. And we still. Still help you.”

David buried his hands in his pockets as they snapped at each other across the path. At least they were talking now. Sort of.

“Why come at all?” Annabelle growled when George Louis didn’t react. “Want my son. Not you.”

“You will see him,” George Louis said promptly, to David’s relief. “He wants to see werewolves, so you will.”

“So. Why come?” Annabelle asked again. “You hate us.”

“I do not hate you.”

“Called me a monster.”

“That’s not—you’re scary, you have to see that. But I’m not stupid. You are our best hope of surviving the Rot. And the Valoise.”

“Funny. How you say please. And thanks.”

George Louis took a deep breath. “Your parents are still alive,” he changed the topic abruptly. “They’ve been on the fence, biding their time. Unwilling to commit to either side.”

“Talk to them?”

“Yes, I’ve talked to them.”

“I think she’d like to know if you want her to,” David interceded.

Annabelle nodded.

“No. No, I do not want you to talk to them. I don’t want them to see you like this. I don’t think it’ll help, for them to learn what happened. Why it happened.”

“Countess Brigelda,” Annabelle sniffed. “Her husband? Don’t remember.”

“Her husband, but anyways—yes.”

Annabelle slanted her head. Suddenly, she frowned, pointed at David. “Him?”

Geoge Louis threw up his hands. “What about him?”

“We haven’t been seeing each other since before you two married,” David explained.

Annabelle nodded at David with what looked like grudging approval to him. “Smart. He cheats.”

Geoge Lois glared at her, but didn’t deny the accusation. He did stop and turned to David to ask: “Maybe you could give us some space after all.”

“You’re sure?” David asked, which earned him a glare, too.

“I’ll be over there.” David pointed towards an old tree in the middle of the pasture they were walking along, with roots big enough that he could sit on them. As soon as he started walking, he heard Annabelle say: “You. And the Relentless?”

“I’m not talking about this, Annabelle.”

“He say no?”

“Do you want to see George or not?” George Louis snapped. David almost turned around. Annabelle laughed, though, so he kept going.

“A killer. Bad fit. I thought. But you use my son for blackmail. So yes. Good fit indeed.”

“Noone has done more for your kind than David.”

“Or killed so many.”

“What if he changed?”

“What then? The dead come back?”

David smiled bitterly when George Louis had no answer to that. He liked Annabelle. A shame they had to meet like this. She even might have been an ally in dealing with the palace intrigues.

He sat down on a large root, swung the crossbow off his back, and leaned against the trunk. When he looked up, Annabelle’s wide eyes were fixed on him, so he slowly put the weapon down into the grass.

Geoge Louis was staring at his feet. He had to know that they weren’t out of earshot in the quiet spring morning, especially not while they were talking to each other across the road. But he didn’t move further away, either. Finally, he looked at Annabelle and said: “David’s your best chance at a future.”

Annabelle shook herself. She threw one more glance in David’s direction, and started walking again. “George. He know? About me?”

George Louis followed her, but kept his distance. “No, he thinks you’re dead.”

“Warn him?”

“I haven’t talked to him about it yet.”

“You will?”

George Louis didn’t answer right away, so Annabelle pressed on: “Want to talk to him. Tell him.”

“I—yes, I’ll tell him,” George Louis said, slowly. “If you agree not to reveal yourself to your parents. Or anyone who might tell them. At least not until the war is over.”

David rested his chin in his hand. No wonder George Louis didn’t want him to listen in, if he had truly considered not telling the prince who Annabele was.

“You. Always a price.” She tossed her hair back. “Fine. Your coup. Your rules.”

“Thank you.”

Annabelle laughed at that, too, a bitter sound. “New Queen?” she asked.

“Sorry? Loegrion doesn’t have a queen. The Roi Solei—”

“You,” Annabelle interrupted him. “Marry?”

“Did I marry again? No. There are some mistakes I’d rather only make once.”

David frowned. Way to turn up the charm, George Louis.

“Hated me. So much back then?”

“I didn’t hate you at all,” George Louis claimed. “If it had been about you, Annabelle, I could have just started over with someone else. But I don’t think I could ever be happy, bound to a woman like that. Any woman,” he added. “I’m sure it wasn’t a pleasant time for you, either. And I’m sorry for that—that I couldn’t be a better husband to you. You did deserve better.”

“Huh,” David muttered to himself. He hadn’t expected the duke to actually apologise. A fairly good apology, too.

Annabelle seemed similarly surprised. By the time she had an answer, they were far enough away that David barely caught her words: “Got married for politics. Not happiness.”

If George Louis said anything in reply to that, David didn’t catch it. He watched as the two of them walked down the winding path that led to the little river of the estate. He settled in to wait, quite relieved that George Louis had found his nerve to talk to Annabelle alone after all.

For a minute or three he closed his eyes, simply enjoying the spring sun.

The distinct honking sounds or migrating geese woke David. He glanced up. High up in the sky, a flock on their way further north approached.

David’s fingers twitched at the sight. He stared down the hill, but Annabelle didn’t look in his direction. So he picked up his crossbow, and quickly took the silver bolts out of the action, replacing them with steel tipped ones. The geese were coming right his way.

Black-neck geese, if he wasn’t very much mistaken. Good eating. The werewolves might appreciate the meat?

As they passed by overhead, his crossbow sang twice, and two birds fell down. The rest of the swarm honked even louder and fluttered away in sudden fright.

Too late he realised that just because Annabelle wasn’t looking in his direction, that didn’t mean that no other werewolf was. As he got up to collect his prize, he saw two giant wolves race away at speed.

Ah well. Maybe this hadn’t been his best thought-out idea. Though it wasn’t, strictly speaking, a bad thing for the elders to be a little fearful of him, given that they had no reason to love humanity and little to fear from regular guards.

Really not his best idea. As he picked up the geese, it occurred to him that he hadn’t talked to Desmarais about hunting rights on his lands, either. Not that he thought the duke was likely to complain. And if so, he could just pay him back.

David pulled the dowels out of the flesh and since he had gotten up already, went to tag after Goerge Louis and Annabelle. They were still walking a few yards apart from each other, but as he approached, they stopped at the point where a narrow walkway crossed the creek. It was a slow-flowing current, and the waters underneath the bridge were green with duckweed. David grinned: George Louis was clearly trying to figure out a way to climb onto the planks without getting too close to Annabelle.

“Would you mind?” he finally asked. She tossed her hair again and retreated another couple of yards.

David thought she muttered the word “coward.” Neither of them appeared to have noticed him yet.

Annabelle stood perfectly still, hands curled into fist, as George Louis stepped onto the wooden planks. When he was almost halfway across, she quickly stalked after him. David realised her intent just as she reached the duke: With a good push, she shoved him right over the edge.

David had to applaud her timing: George Louis had just enough time to yell in surprise and windmill with his arms fruitlessly, before he went over the edge arse first with a big splash. Right into the weeds and the water lilies. A bunch of frogs hopped out around him and a dragonfly buzzed by. His head only went unter for a brief second, then he pushed himself out of the shallow water and into a sitting position, arms raised as if expecting an attack. A couple of water lily leaves covered his shoulders like epaulettes.

At the sight of his face, Annabelle started laughing so hard she went in on the other side of the bridge. The duckweeds were disturbed even more, and when she came up, she was in her wolf-body, still laughing—wheezing, whining—so hard she staggered like a drunk, even on all fours.

When George Louis lowered his arms, blinking around owlishly at an attack that wasn’t coming, David lost it, too.