Alisona's husband) is out on patrol with the militia and their scouts. They have observed the movement of Brittanian troops.They are moving in great numbers.
There have been comings and goings all day in the Ducal Palace. Men ,puffed -up with their own self importance have waited hours for a few minutes of the Duke's time. The corridor is full of the hopeful,the disappointed and the resigned. One by one they are called into the presence of Karl Frederick,one by one they leave disguising their feelings with bluff greetings. For this is the day when the officers ( and would- be officers ) find out if they have a place in the reformed army.
The Duke has thought long and hard,realised he will have made enemies but has carried on for the good of Tradgardland. Tomorrow he will address the army and those who command it . Tonight he will dine quietly,exhausted by the day's proceedings, retiring early with his beloved Duchess to their inner sanctum.
Dear Brother
From their Palace balcony the Duke and Duchess watch the annual fireworks display put on by the Artillery Guild of St Barbara. As ever an infinite number of patterns and colours have graced the black night sky. The Duke muses upon the events that have illuminated his life so far - marriage, taking up the burden of the Duchy,the birth of his children and the death of one. Life's pleasures and satisfactions light up the sky for an instance and then are gone . Duty to God and Duchy remain constant and comforting ,in a strange way,too.
The Duchess ponders those officers and wives known to her ,some who are upon the sea this night rather than being illuminated by the products of alchemical expertise. She draws closer to her husband as the night turns chilly with the erupting of the stars.
