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assignment that would amount to a demotion. The SG had evidently not been pleased with Colonel Phocion's performance of late.
"Nor am I going to be here much longer," said the Prince as cheerfully as he could. "And there's not much perhaps about it. You're right." He raised his own glass, returning the salute, and drank.
The colonel looked at the ladies, apparently assessing them in his quietly arrogant way; he'd already met Gabrielle, naturally, and now he looked at Greta Thamar as if he knew her too. But he still spoke only to the Prince. Now he would do his best to be bracing. "I suppose there's an excellent chance that you'll be recalled now."
"To power? Hardly." Harivarman spread his big hands. "Arrested is infinitely more likely."
Phocion's return look said that he had realized that all along, but had wanted to hold out hope.
There was a faint sound from Gabrielle across the table. The Prince looked at her, and saw incipient shock. He'd been right; it appeared that until this moment she really hadn't understood.