Laurence felt his face going red; she was sitting there in breeches that showed every inch of her leg, with a shirt held closed only by a neckcloth; he shifted his gaze to the unalarming top of her head and managed to say, “Your servant, Miss Harcourt.

“I will see you bereft of all that you have, of home and happiness and beautiful…”

“You are not wrong," Laurence said. He had assumed as much himself, after all, i…”

“For his part, Temeraire had been following this exchange with cocked head and i…”

“. . . and it came out that this King Arthur and his knights had done nothing of…”