By now the office of the Grand Commandeur was furnished to his standards. Any officers deemed untrustworthy had been weeded out, and things had started to quiet down. Renaud had even spent a lot of time recuperating, taking the advice of his doctor and getting rest and food. So, while the cough was still there, it had not worsened. There was still blood at times, but not as frequent.

He could live with that. For now at least.

He still had not found a suitable assistant, perhaps Bonet had spoiled him over the years, there were advantages to a man that knew your mind before you had to give the orders. Still, all in due time.

At this moment, as the sun was approaching its zenith and the town of Santa Cinghale was quieting down for the afternoon nap he never could get used to, Renaud had pulled out a bottle of wine for a glass. it had become a daily ritual, just him, the bottle and the pickled head that he kept neatly tucked away in an ornate box. It was preserved in a jar, and even through it was not exatly fresh, it still held a strong resemblance to the woman it had once belonged to. Kuleliti.

It was a nice reassurance that she was still dead and he remained alive. Worthy of a toast even.

There was a knock at the door, and the rather long-suffering voice of the poor fellow who had had to replace Bonet said, "Monsieur le Commandeur? That Woman is back."

"Merde. Let her in." Renaud knew by now there was no stopping her if she wanted in. There came a time when the simples solution was capitulation. Even if it cut his drink short.

"Later cherie." He patted the jar before replacing it in the box, but left the box standing closed on the desk, a little off to the side. He tool a moment to smooth back his immaculate hair, tightly braided as always, and straighten his uniform.

The he leaned back, wondering what her business was today.

The woman walked in, fixing him with that same prim smile as always. "Hello, Monsieur," she said sweetly, slipping into a chair without an invitation. She leaned languorously over the armrest, and removed her hat. "How is my case progressing?"

At least he could slide into Aquitinian with her, and not have to struggle with these Cecilians. That was something. "I wish I could give you better news Madame Romain. The policies of the Empire is not something to change over the case of a single woman, no matter how eloquently she would plead it. Still, I am impressed with your persistance. Wine?" He offered her a fresh glass. "if there is one thing they can do around here, it is to press a decent wine."

She showed her teeth when she smiled. And one dimple. "Grazie, as these quaint little people say," she replied, taking the glass. "Tell me, Monsieur, have you really been trying? Or are you simply so certain things can't change that you haven't even bothered to see?"

"Perhaps it would simply set a bad example madame Romain." Renaud smiled thinly, his angular tanned face having finally lost that greyness. He looked to be in slightly better health. "But we have had this argument too many times, it feels as if I would wake up in the middle of the night and hear it all over again. Tell me Madame, have you not considered moving on by now? Finding some other pursuits?"

The woman gave the Admiral a tired look. "Monsieur, I would consider moving on if I thought for one minute that you were taking my case seriously. There isn't anything you can do for me?" she asked. "Have you considered all the alternatives?"

"Trust me Madame, at this point I am considering every alternative, no matter how unorthodox they might be." He had changed the way he looked at her as time passed, from simply regarding her as a grieving widow there had come something else into the picture as well.

"If there is one point you have managed to get across at this time, it is that you are a woman that should be taken seriously."

She smiled at that. "So, then, tell me, Commandeur, why aren't you?"