" There’s no use in talking about the plan, because of course nothing went the way it was supposed to. Even the passage of time was horribly distorted. At first the ride to the hill seemed endless, with me sneaking looks at my brother, who was increasingly unsteady in his saddle.
The Marquis insisted on riding in front of us the last little distance, where we saw a row of four horse riders waiting--the outer two bearing banners, dripping from the rain, but the flags’ green and gold still brilliant, and the inner two riders brawny and cruel faced and very much at ease, wearing the plumed helms of command.
“I just wanted to see if you traitors would dare to face me,” Galdran said, his caustic voice making me feel sick inside. Sick--and angry.
The Marquis bowed low over his horse’s withers, every line of his body indicative of irony.
Galdran’s face flushed dark purple.
“I confess,” Shevraeth drawled, “we had a small wager on whether you would have the courage to face us. "

― Sherwood Smith , Crown Duel (Crown & Court, #1)