The Hooded Hawke (2014)
“She told her ladies to continue their morning constitutional and went over by the fountain to greet him.
He bowed; she gestured him closer to the splashing water so their conversation wouldn’t carry to her courtiers who strolled the grounds or chatted in groups around them.
“Your Majesty, I am relieved to see you are well, but I never doubted it.”
“I walked home like a laborer from the fields, Captain, and I’m sore to the bone,” she said with a tight smile. Indicating he should sit beside her, she perched on the lip of the fountain where the wind did not blow the spray. “As I suspected, your man holding the horses had also fled his post. Have you buried your sailor, Smythe?”
“He would be touched that you recalled his name, Your Grace. Yes, we buried him in a graveyard in town, though he was a seafarer at heart and would probably have preferred a sea burial. I don’t know whether it was the arrow or the fall that killed him, but it’s the third murder in this wretched business.
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