Myles and Coram sat over brandy, in the corner. His mother and Rispah both eyed their men, but they said nothing. Rispah kept a steady hand on her aunt's arm and George was glad for his cousin's presence. He would be of no use to his mother today.
Jon and Thayet were together, the princess looking sad but proud. Jon only looked older still, his bright blue eyes stark in a too-pale face. A sullen Buri stood at Thayet's elbow, her eyes downcast.
The elderly Duke of Naxen wasn't supposed to be out of bed so soon after his heart attack, but he was, accompanied by his wife and son.
Raoul was a towering, black-clothed shadow, as he entered. He didn't speak, only bowed to his king and crossed the room to join Coram and Myles.
The Shang Dragon's face was drawn, his skin pale against his mourning. He looked as if he hadn't slept. "Cooper," he said, in a harsh voice. "She died honorably - a warrior's death - particularly for a knight sworn to a crown."
George bit his tongue against an angry reply. "Mayhap," he said. "It doesn't make it any less wrong."
Liam frowned. "No," he said, his voice quiet. "It doesn't."
Not for the first time, George cursed the idiocy of the young Master who stood separate from the gathering, looking out of place at a gathering intended to mourn his twin.
"Leave her brother alone," Liam advised. "He feels enough guilt."
George doubted that.