The sun had barely moved above the horizon when Eirwen walked out into the front courtyard to inspect the troops. Two dozen knights stood at the ready, while behind them stood another two dozen soldiers. In front of the carriages her personal staff had gathered, all wearing weapons and light armour. While the knights had individual decorations, the troops and staff all wore the Verglas colours and coat of arms. The one exception was the nameless, who still carried no weapon or armour, just thick dull grey clothing. He stood at attention, a stance roughly emulated by the staff next to him.

Eirwen let her eyes glide over the knights. Those that had engaged the nameless yesterday, looked rather embarrassed and had a hard time looking her in the eye. Good. Their faces looked spotless, but she noticed a few grimaces and stiff stances. The price of underestimating the nameless, and hopefully a lesson well-learned. The honourable Bethan was a grumpy healer who suffered no fools. Given Eirwen's orders about treatment priority, it was no surprise that Bethan had chosen to not overdo the healing.

On her path to the carriages stood Vicomtesse Pertrellan, who subtly winced when Eirwen's cold eyes fell upon her. The Vicomtesse was dressed in full plate, her family's coat of arms clearly visible on her chest. Like the knights, Pertrellan was wearing fully functional gear, rather than ceremonial overdecorated armour. It sent the message that the Verglas troops still took the situation serious, even if their opponent had already surrendered. Recovering from her faux pas, the Vicomtesse jumped to attention. "Your Grace! All ready to ride at your command!"

Eirwen nodded in return, still wearing the cold mask that she had held in public ever since the war had started. "Very well. We ride in three moments. Walk with me." She walked over the main path towards the carriages as the troops all jumped to action, quickly giving their gear a final inspection. Pertrellan stepped aside then walked in her precise pace, slow but measured. She glanced at the woman, a loyal advisor and friend of the family. "You look as if you want to speak but dare not to."

Pertrellan stuttered. "Ah, uhm. Your Grace. Is it really okay for him to ride with you? I swear upon my name that I can keep him safe at my side. The troops have all been given their instructions and many have already spent some time writing formal apologies to you." Eirwen raised an eyebrow to that last bit. Now that she hadn't expected, given how she knew they would lash out and both she and A- the nameless had lured it out deliberately.

More importantly, Pertrellan seemed to be misunderstanding. "Make no mistake, Lady Pertrellan. I doubt neither your competence nor your loyalty. But we simply cannot afford to have him be visible to the public. You see, if we have him unarmed, his former people will assume we are showing off a prisoner, which will earn us resentment. And if he is armed, they will not be obedient to me, they will be obedient to him. So he will ride with me."

[...]