Ransom’s attention had been so firmly fixed on the king that he hadn’t noticed Simon until he was named. Sir Simon was several years older than him, but they’d become friends and allies while serving the Younger King. Indeed, it was Simon who had brought him news of the Younger King’s final illness. They exchanged smiles.
“And he will join the council of a sudden?” asked Duke Ashel with a hint of challenge in his voice.
“Didn’t I just say that?” asked the king. “Stop eating and pay attention. He served my son, and now he will serve the sire. Simon, he already has some land in Occitania, but find him a castle here too. One of mine, of course. He’ll need a wife. One of the royal wards will do, and another ward to stay at the castle.”
Duke Wigant’s hands closed into fists. The duke’s reaction only buoyed the hopeful thoughts surging through Ransom, for he knew James had always had an interest in Claire. Would the king finally allow him to court her?
“I propose that we send Ransom to the Vexin to deliver a message to my truculent son. If anyone else, it would only rouse Benedict’s scorn. I must be honest, none of you intimidates him as much as Ransom does. He’ll need an escort of knights, of course. Bryon, how many do you recommend?”
“I should think fifty would be a significant show of force,” said Lord Kinghorn. He had a wary look in his eyes. In fact, they all seemed uncomfortable with the king’s suggestions.
“I agree. More than that and he’ll treat it as an invading force. Make the arrangements.”
“I will, Devon,” said Lord Kinghorn.
“Good.” The king clapped his hands, his face bright with eagerness. “I have work that must get done, but we will meet again for dinner.” He draped his arm around Ransom’s neck and thumped him hard on the back. “I’ve not felt this good in a while. Yes, this marks a change in the waters. I can feel it in these old bones!”
“My lord,” Ransom said, trying not to stutter. He regretted that he had to voice his private feelings in front of the council, but there was no way around it. It seemed unlikely the king would provide him with a private meeting, and he dare not waste the opportunity. “Another reason I returned to Kingfountain was to see my friend, Claire de Murrow.”
The king’s brow narrowed. “You knew each other as children, did you not?”
“Yes, we both grew up in the castle.”
“I see. That nonsense will not do. I’ve promised her to my son Jon-Landon. Let me douse any ardor you may still have with a bucket of cold reality. A match with her will never, ever happen. She’s much too valuable to me.”
Ransom’s heart clenched. Disappointment was bitter in his mouth. “Does she not have a say? Is that not the way of her people?”
“A king always gets his way,” he said flippantly. “I just need to make it worth her while. There are plenty of other lasses I can offer you instead. Sir Simon will help you understand. Off you go.” He clapped Ransom on the back.
“May I at least send messages to her on occasion?” he persisted. “Not to court her, but because we have always been friends.”
The king was about to turn away, but he gave Ransom a shrewd look. “I’m sure one of the other heiresses will be tempting to you, Ransom. Why not at least see who they are?”
“I thank you for your generosity, my lord. But my mind is made up.”
The king shrugged. “You’re young still. I give you permission to send her letters to rekindle your friendship, but nothing more. If you abuse this privilege, it will be taken away.”
“We understand each other,” Ransom said. “Thank you.”
Ransom and Simon walked together down the corridor. “When did you start serving the king?” he asked, giving his friend a playful slap on his shoulder, which was instantly reciprocated.
“The previous steward suffered from gallstones. Do you remember Sir William Longsword?”
“I do.” He was the one who had paid Ransom his wages as a knight in the Younger King’s mesnie.
“He brought me on to help out and then became too incapacitated to serve.” He glanced at Ransom. “How was your journey?”
“Long and hot,” Ransom replied. He knew he was being vague, but at the moment the desert felt extremely far away, and he had no wish to discuss what had happened to him at the well. At least not while walking down a corridor in the castle. He smiled at his friend. “Rewarding too, but I’d prefer to discuss it at another time.”
“That’s fair,” Simon said with a nod. “I correspond with Lady Sibyl, your mother, you know. I’ve helped her on occasion with some of the problems she’s faced with your castle in Gison.”
Ransom gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Simon.”
Simon shrugged. “Being on the king’s council is an incredible privilege. He trusts all of us to act in his name.”
That earned another chuckle from Ransom. “I had no idea this would happen. I was planning to see Claire, if I could, and hoped to find a noble who’d give me a spot on his mesnie. I never dreamed of getting a spot on the king’s council, especially not so soon.”
“The king likes being unpredictable. No one else can think as fast as he can. Except Lady Deborah, perhaps. I think he listens to her the most.”
“So the king said you’re to give me a castle and a . . . wife?” Ransom asked with concern.
Simon grinned. “As I said, he likes keeping people off guard. You need a castle to pay for the additional expenses you will now have, although I should mention that your lady mother has managed your funds sensibly, and you have even more than when you left. Most knights are spendthrifts, always buying new clothes and entertaining people. The king has many lands he’s inherited after the owners died without heirs, and he also has wardship over many who are too young still to inherit.”
Ransom frowned.
Simon gave him another sidelong look. “I know you’re stuck on Lady Claire, Ransom, but that’s a concession you’ll not get. I’m surprised he agreed that you could write to her. Everyone knows she’s intended for Jon-Landon. Now, would you prefer a castle in the North, East, South, or West?”
“He has castles in all four quarters?”
“Of course! He’s a rich man. But I should think the West would be the most suitable. It puts you in the place of greatest hostility. King Estian is always stirring up trouble. And you’re the knight who dragged him off his horse in front of everyone at Chessy.” He grinned. “You didn’t think we’d forgotten, did you?”
Ransom tried not to smile, but he found himself doing so anyway. A flush came up his neck. “What is available in Westmarch, then? Can I have Averanche?”
“Sorry, that also belongs to Jon-Landon. The king has a castle on the border with Brythonica, however, that might suit you well, especially since you also own a manor in that duchy. It’s called Josselin castle. Smaller than Averanche, but I expect you’ll like it. They haven’t had a master there since Lord Rakestraw died. What do you think?”
“I think the king is very generous,” Ransom admitted.
“Oh, don’t be so sure of that. You heard what he said in the hall. What he gives, he can take away. And he’s done so, just to prove that he can. There’s a cost in serving him. But I have to say this . . . I’m glad you’re on the council now. He needs you more than you know.” Then he smiled again. “So . . . you cannot have Claire, but she’s not the only heiress who’s available. Are you ready to learn about your future wife?”