And not long after, she’d found herself galloping away from those bars, that base, and that whole damn city. Now, Honour was stationed in the capital, wearing a designer dress rather than her olive drab service uniform, sipping cocktails in place of cheap cider, dining on platters of creamy Prench pastries instead of rough bread and barley stew. She’d gone up in rank three times, got hastily married and messily divorced, switched to another department, and earned a Silver Star fighting against the Changelings.