A light tenor voice called to them, “Hail, Royal Guardsmen!  Long live the Dauphin!”

    Captain Fontaine shouted back, “Long live the Dauphin.  Name yourself, rider!”

    The approaching dark shape came more sharply in view, “Do you not know your Contra’Vagus?”

    Emerging from the fog was Duke Edouard Montmercy, followed by ten Elite Captains of Corps d’Noir.

    Fontaine’s voice boomed to the men, “Stand down!”

    Soldiers murmured excitedly together at the return of the Kingdom’s legendary heroes. In building, nearly musical rounds,  “Montmercy!” overlapped with, “It’s Duke Montmercy and Corps d’Noir!”  If LaNotre were ten years younger, he might have succumbed to sharing the same excitement as the hero-worshiping lads standing at attention next to him.  All the same, a satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

    Blind to the countless pairs of eyes staring with great respect and admiration, Montmercy rode forward solemnly to meet with Captain Fontaine and Lieutenant LaNotre.  The Contra’Vagus asked, “All is well here?”

    LaNotre spoke up, “Not a bit of magic since you chased out the traitors, your Grace!”

    There was a doubtful puff of air.  “Would I could believe all are imprisoned or perished.  Lead on, Captain Fontaine.”

    Falling in beside him, Fontaine and LaNotre bracketed the Contra’V agus, mounts trotting down the raked gravel path to the palace.  Unlikely to ride so close to him ever again, Lieutenant LaNotre’s eyes flicked sideways to Duke Montmercy’s profile.  Beneath the sagging rim of the black sunhat, the surprisingly smooth jaw tightened into a hard-edged expression.  Only a nobleman could manage to maintain such an appearance!  LaNotre’s eyes followed the line of the man’s layered black cape from the shoulder down to his knee, where a strangely stained satchel bumped against Montmercy’s riding boot.

    Judging from the size, it was not hard to guess what lay nestled inside.

    LaNotre wished he could be privy to the heroic tale about to be shared to the noble Court.

    As the Royal Guards and Corps d’Noir Elites trailed in behind them, the gatekeepers’ horns bellowed across the garden grounds, reverberated the palatial walls, and echoed across the countryside.

    Corps d’Noir had returned!

    At the same time, the Regent and Dauphin were returning to their seats on the dais, eyes riveted on the opposing door at the far end of the ornate hall.  Everyone else in the grand chamber lifted their heads in surprise.  Corps d’Noir returned?  Murmurs sprang up everywhere at once.  Solemn-faced, Dauphin Demetrius made a quick flurry of a wave to motion permission to approach.  While the herald’s messengers disappeared to inform and escort the dragoons in, Ministers looked to each other in question with questioning brows.  Only Gouvier and Voland kept a steady watch on the Throne Room’s grand doors.

    All across the grand hall, lords and ladies busily consulted each other.  There were five exquisitely gowned women who were more excitable than the rest.

    Standing with the ABC Club, not far from the royal dais, the beautiful Lady Alicia was beside herself, “Oh, Dianthe!  I can scarcely breathe!  He’s home!  He’s home!”

    Even as her own hand checked for imperfections in her quaffed, powdered hair, Lady Dianthe chided, “Calm yourself, Alicia!  Smothering a man with enthusiasm is unfashionable!”

    Aloof and self-assured as ever, Ernestine languidly waved her fan, “No need to scold your cousin so.  Montmercy’s apt to make a spectacle himself, dropping to his knees at the sight of her to propose a wedding for this afternoon.”