Toki gritted his teeth as Versailles appeared on the horizon. The sun was promising to peak over the horizon and shades of purple and deep mauve filled the sky. Yolande's eyes were red and bleary. Cornichon was sprawled over Yolande's lap, but rather than taking offense, she seemed to find it comforting, and ran her fingers over his red hair, from the scalp to the tip of his ponytail.

Toki thought of the balmy afternoon, so long ago it seemed, when his head had rested Yolande's lap. A warm scented breeze had passed over them, and he had first confessed his fears to her. It seemed eons ago, and so many hopes had risen and been dashed to rocks since then.

I must talk him out of it. Will he listen to me? But he knew that Skwisgaar could not back out without a stain to his honor. He had been eager to join the ranks of nobles, and now that he was one of them, he had to conform to their code. No cowardice, no backing down- once he had been challenged, he had little choice.

"But Marie-," said Toki, looking into Yolande's eyes. "She can not lets this happen- it ams forbidden!"

Yolande looked toward the palace that seemed a doll's house in the distance. Her hand rested on Cornichon's shoulder, and he murmured something. She smiled sadly. Her curls had lost their volume and hung limply over her shoulders. She was still beautiful, but in a wild way, a way utterly foreign to her.

"I tried to speak to her, I did, though my husband would no doubt have punished me for it. But she was with His Majesty. He said it was a matter of honor, and he would not interfere."

Toki frowned. "Yolande, if only you womens could stands up to your husbands."

She laughed bitterly. "I'm afraid you do not understand, dear Count. We have no rights, and the penalties for disobedience can be severe." She lifted up her hair, lightly, as though simply adjusting it, and he saw a deep bruise on either side of her neck, as though hands had grabbed at her throat.

"The filthy Dukes," hissed Toki, nearly rising from his seat. "I will kills him!"

"And so said Skwisgaar," said Yolande, nearly choking on her words. "What a proud man he is, and he seems so cold at times. But kind- and with an open heart."

She adjusted her hair so it fully covered her neck. "And he would fight my husband, he would, though it would break my heart. But if could listen to someone- it could only be someone he couldn't refuse, it could only be-" she gave Toki a meaningful glance.

Toki's chest rose and fell, rose and fell.

"No," she continued. "He's said nothing to me- not directly. But he speaks of you, and I am no fool." Her eyes fell to the floor. "I have told you of my cousin Émile?" She asked.

"Yes," said Toki, smiling slightly. "He was a great cavalier."

"I was only a little girl then, too young to understand, and he had just reached manhood." She shivered. "Émile was my best friend, as young as I was- he always had sweetmeats and toys and would throw me up in the air as though I were a doll." She laughed. "He called me his little wife, and I was certain we would be married someday." Cornichon blinked awake, and it seemed as though he were listening.

"A young man from Provence had brought his sister to court. She was a beauty and he hoped to make her a good match for her. If I remember, my cousin was one of the prospects. But Émile fell for him, and he for my cousin. They were happy for a while, until they were caught together. The young man fled, and Émile made straight for the wars. He made a hero of himself, but he threw himself away. He drowned in the battle of Carrickfergus."

Toki pictured a young man much like her, with brown curls and gentle eyes. He thought of the ocean, and how it swallowed him, and his mind turned to Skwisgaar and the long field where the cavaliers dueled. His stomach churned.

"I never understood," she continued. "Not until years later, when his journals fell into my hands. "Burn them" my father told me, but I kept them, and I read them every night. It was such a waste, of beauty and youth and promise. They say it's wrong, love like that." She laughed, softly. "But what would our romans* be without forbidden love?"

She reached out her hands to Toki, and he pressed them, tight. He had loved her once, and now he loved her still more, though only at this moment was he certain of the true nature of that love. They would stand by one another, always. And even Cornichon, though barely ever sober, was a friend to him. It was all he had ever wanted, such friends, only now it wasn't enough.

The coach made it through the gates and over the cobblestones of the central courtyard. Toki shook Cornichon and he grabbed his head and groaned.

"We ams here, Cornichon. You can sleeps now."

Cornichon groaned and snatched his walking stick. He hopped out the carriage.

"I heard you guys talking. Skwisgaar's in trouble, and I'm coming with you."

But Toki was too fast for him. He raced to the front doors. "Meets me at the grounds," he called behind him to a startled Cornichon and Yolande. The guards glanced at him and admitted him with dubious expressions on their stiff faces.

It had to be in the designated spot, in the wooded area on the eastern part of the palace grounds. He didn't have time to run- he made for the stables, and had the grooms saddled him a bay. The horse balked at his touch- he was shaking, and the animal could feel it.

"Steady now," he said in Norwegian, in the tone he used with Skjelve. He stroked the horse's side, pretending she was Skjelve, that he was back at his country house and everything was fine. The horse calmed, and Toki slipped a foot into the stirrups and leapt in the saddle. Warm shades of rose and gold illuminated the trees by the roadside. Toki's chest tightened- it might already be too late.

He galloped along the pathway, to the area where the trees grew thicker and the path narrower. He made a hard right, and the bay plodded through the high grasses. He clenched the reigns. There was a stone wall up ahead, and he was unsure of the bay- but there was no time to doubt. He pushed her ahead and she leapt over the wall. "Good girl," he said, his voice hard. He was in the woods now, and the bay dodged the poplars and cedars around them. They rounded a painted gazebo, and when they made past the carved oak, he knew the grounds were just ahead.

He slowed at he crossed into the clearing. All he saw were several men, nodding. Some he knew, some were strangers, but they all looked the same to him in their dark coats and peaked hats. Time seemed to shift, and their heads lifted slowly to face him. Their expressions were somber.

Then a hand snatched the bridle, and pulled him deeper in the thicket.

"Don't be a fool, you'll draw the king's men here for sure!" said a man, but Toki only saw the top of his head.

"Skwisgaar-" he said, but no one answered him.

"The king will overlook this duel, he said as much," said another man. Toki's heart paused. The duel- it was still in action.

Toki leapt from horse. "Baron Skwigelf," he nearly shouted, clutching the stranger by the shoulder.

The man pushed him off. "Are you blind? Just look behind you."

Toki shuddered involuntarily, and turned. He was looking into a long clearing, tall oaks overhead, casting a long shadow in the sunrise. Two figures were illuminated in shades of gold, but when he squinted, he could see they wore dark cloaks. The first was only a few yards away, his arm lifted and a pistol in his hand. And the other- he stood still, waiting, unnaturally tall and calm, chin lifted, and his yellow hair pulled back.

Toki took several deadened steps forward, but hands fell over his arms and pulled him back. There was a sound, much like thunder, and a rich cloud of smoke, and ahead of him, Skwisgaar fell to the ground.

*Roman- Means 'novel' in contemporary French, but Yolande is referring to the classic romantic verse of medieval French literature, which often involved adulterous or tragic love, i.e. Tristan and Isolde