FLOWERS

Sentries throwing dice

straighten up

at our approach.

I run a nervous hand

through the length of my hair

then wave in friendly greeting.

We fly the Crown’s flag

but any sentry worth their sword

would know Chalon’s men

are not above deceit.

Zahra and I exchange a glance

then prod our horses forward

until we are right before the men.

Mesdemoiselles?