Simon started to rise, but Ransom caught his arm. “Have a room prepared for Claire if you would. She is no longer confined to the tower.”
Simon glanced between them and nodded. “I will inform the king of Lady Claire’s consent and your wishes. I don’t think he will begrudge you anything right now.”
After he left, Claire entangled her fingers with Ransom’s, and they sat at the table talking until a strange but pleasant smell wafted over.
“What did you ask the undercook to make?”
“It’s a surprise. Do you remember Siena, the cook who used to work here when we were children?” She scooted even closer on the bench until their hips touched.
Ransom thought a moment, and the memories began to return. “She was Gaultic. I do remember her.”
“This palace has so many dark memories for me now.” She glanced up at the rafters, then at the cooks who were cleaning after the evening meal. “I want to cherish as many good ones as I can before we leave this place forever. Remember when we met in Chessy and you gave me that little morsel of penuche?”
“Of course.”
“Well, this is something I wanted you to try. Ah, here she comes.”
The undercook was carrying a large bread paddle with four slices of bread on it. It looked almost burnt, and the sight of it made Ransom wrinkle his nose, but the smell was intriguing and sweet.
“What is this?” he asked as the cook set the paddle down on the table before him.
“Just try it,” Claire said. She took one of the four pieces. When she bit into it, there was a nice crunch, and she smiled in enjoyment.
Ransom took one of the pieces and smelled it first. The spice was slightly familiar, although he’d never tasted it before. He thought it might be something he’d encountered in the oasis. The morsel was still steaming, but he took a cautious bite and then smiled as the sugar melted on his tongue, leaving him with the flavor of the spice.
“It tastes a little like penuche,” he said with a grin.
Claire grinned and nodded. “I thought so too, which is why I wanted you to try it. It’s a delicacy in the Vexin, one that Emi is fond of. They call it qinnamon torrere.”
“I’ve never heard of it,” Ransom said, taking another delicious bite. The bread was soft, but the topping was thin, crispy, and sweet.
“Qinnamon is a rare bark from a tree in the East Kingdoms. Genevese merchants transport it, and it’s very expensive to buy. The sugar is also from the East Kingdoms. Not from beets but from a different plant that only grows over there. The cook puts some butter on the bread to help it stick, and it bubbles and hardens in the oven.”
“If my lady loves it, then my lady shall have it whenever she desires,” said Ransom with a smile. “A duchess can afford such a delicacy.”
She flashed a smile. “I didn’t want to tell you first that you were eating bark. Well, bark that is ground in a pestle until it’s powder.”
He looked at her face, and it pleased him to think that he’d be looking at it for the rest of his life. Her smile was warm, but then she looked over her shoulder, and her eyes crinkled with worry.
Lord Kinghorn had entered the kitchen and was walking up to them.
“I think the queen could use some comfort this evening,” he said to Claire.
She nodded. “I imagine so. I’ll go to her.”
Lord Kinghorn shifted his attention to Ransom. “The king would speak to you. Another messenger just arrived.” He pitched his voice lower. “Benedict just arrived at Beestone castle. It surrendered to him without a fight.”
The sweet taste in Ransom’s mouth turned sour. He glanced at Claire and saw her countenance had changed with the news.
Without speaking, they understood each other. If Benedict won the hollow crown and defeated his father, what would become of their future together?
My hand trembles as I write this. I don’t think my heart can hold so much happiness without bursting. Sir Dalian brought me from the tower on the king’s orders and took me to one of the palace gardens. Ransom was waiting for me. I didn’t know how to interpret his mood. He was flustered and uneasy, and I dreaded the worst. By some miracle of the Aos Sí, he has freed me from this prison. He is to be mine, and I am to be his. The news about Goff is dark indeed, but I can’t help but feel joyous about the future.
Sir Simon gave us a reckoning of my father’s estates and lands. Legault is an unruly mess, but when word reaches Atha Kleah about the change of events, I am convinced many of the nobles will flock to me and my future husband. If only this disorder with Duke Benedict can be resolved quickly. I do not want this war to continue forever. I do not want anything to ruin our future together.
I love thee, Ransom Barton. I say it freely and want to shout it from the window. This tower will be my prison no longer, although my joy cannot be complete because I know it will remain Emi’s cage.
—Claire de Murrow, Queen Again at Last
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
High Commission
Beestone castle had its share of ghosts, but Ransom was determined to face them. He had received a high commission from the king to broker peace with his wayward son. Now that Ransom had been named the future duke of Glosstyr, he had plenty of motivation to see the assignment accomplished successfully. But he knew it would not be easy, particularly since Benedict was on the verge of winning the war.
He rode with an entourage of fifty knights, each man wearing full armor and carrying lances at the ready. His brother, Marcus, accompanied him on the journey, having obeyed the king’s summons to bring ten knights to Kingfountain for duty. It was the first time the two brothers had served together, although Ransom had the command. Scouts had been sent ahead to preview the ground and warn of possible ambushes on the road.
Ransom was anxious to get back to Claire. Her good-bye kiss still lingered on his lips. At the pace they set, there wasn’t much opportunity to talk to his brother, but it had interested him to see that Sir Kace was one of the knights in his brother’s retinue.
When they arrived at the outskirts of the village at dusk, the scouts they’d sent ahead were waiting for them. Dawson led the group, and he approached Ransom on horseback as they came closer. Torches shone from the walls of the castle, showing it was prepared for an assault.
“What have you learned?” Ransom asked Dawson.
“Duke Benedict’s men wear the badge of the Lion, and they’re roaming about the village,” said Dawson. “The first one I met asked if we’d come to swear fealty to him as the rightful king of Ceredigion.” Dawson grinned. “I asked if Benedict was up at the castle, and the man said yes. I didn’t feel it was my duty to speak on your behalf. Nor did I tell him whom I served. We’re clearly not the first to have come.”
Marcus turned in his saddle to face Ransom. “It seems Benedict is confident there will be more defectors from his father.”
“I agree,” Ransom said. He gazed at the castle atop the small rocky hill. Few people knew, but there was a secret way into the keep. He’d discovered it himself after the Younger King had perished by poison, for Alix and Sir Robert had used that passageway to escape. Did Benedict know of it? Ransom was tempted to find out, but it would be dangerous to enter the palace that way without having an exit planned.