The time travel still made Constance's head spin, but struggling with the differences here and now mostly distracted her from the how and the particulars of all she'd missed. She'd been here long enough to assume most the people she met were from her future, and left it at that.

Thirty years. There had been fighting in one place or another most of Constance's life, although not always for the French. It was enough to give her hope the fighting might end soon. But any comfort she felt in that thought was followed by horror at the idea of a war that encompassed the whole world, and she crossed herself reflexively. "I would've hoped after centuries even men would learn to think and talk instead of fighting all the time trying to solve their difficulties. I guess that was too much to ask."