She stood on the hill before him, looking out at the field. She stood there, a knight without armor or title, stripped of everything but the most bare honor that she could command. She watched the smoke of the funeral pyres spiral towards the heavens, twining with the oxygen and turning transparent, until it vanished against the darkness. However, no matter how much of it disappeared, there was still so much of it that it blocked out the very stars. The moon was barely visible on the fringe of the smoke, as if taunting her with its bigness and its seeming aloneness.
She was alone on the hill, or she thought that she was, her honor, the only thing she felt that she really had left, spider-cracking into fragments as she stood, tears welling in her eyes that she would never admit to afterwards. If she felt his eyes on her, she didn't show it in any way, merely continuing to stare with blurred vision at the fire that still burned below. It was only right to them, that they get for themselves the proper burials they deserved, but there wasn't enough time. She had to pray that they and their loved ones, what few they probably had, would someday forgive her for her restrictions and inabilities.
Finally, he approached, coming just close enough to let her know that he was there, without showing that he had seen her tears. No, he would give her the dignity of ignorance in that respect. He was just there, some two or three yards from her, hoping to allow her the slight comfort of a familiar presence. He wasn't as sympathetic; he wasn't as good or as kind to cry for them; not as gentle to offer words of reassurance. But for her sake, and that of the bond they had formed over the long years spent together, he would stand by, letting her know that she had not yet lost everyone. She may be a leader left to stand with little support, but that support that was left would not vanish. He would not leave.
All the same, she stood there for a long time, contemplating the failure that she had suffered, the men and the sense of sanctuary that had been lost. She had thought of that place as safe, and though she had expected some sort of attack on it, never in a million years would she have anticipated that it would be successful, that so many of her soldiers would die, that they would be so nearly overcome that the part of her that was still as young as the age her birth certificate indicated cried out to just give it up, just run away, though she knew that she couldn't, and fought that childish part of herself with every bit of strength she had left. She would not give in.
The sky was just lightening over the field and the nearby city when she finally turned, acknowledging the vampire with a nod and walking back to the manor, him echoing her footsteps.
There was work to be done still, before any kind of mourning began.
