and wavy atop his head, but he didn’t wear it long in the fashion of his brothers. He seemed to have grown a hand’s width since the last time Ransom had seen him.
James had clearly noticed them, but he didn’t seem frightened of Ransom. He continued to approach them, a crafty look in his eyes and a bit of a strut in his walk.
“Back so soon?” he said to Ransom, stopping well out of reach. It was obvious he hadn’t forgotten what Ransom’s fist felt like. The prince looked at Ransom with neither malice nor pleasure.
“I just arrived,” Ransom said coldly.
“Well,” said the other. He looked between Ransom and Simon, and the corner of his mouth ticked up. “I hope you are well enough. Does Bayree suit you?”
He was seeking to get Ransom to reveal his plans. He wouldn’t.
“Good evening,” Ransom said with a slight nod of his head and then continued walking, Simon hastening to catch up.
“It’s a small duchy,” James said from behind. “But I think it will suit your ambition.”
Ransom ignored the jibe, but he frowned in annoyance. From behind him, he heard Jon-Landon mutter in a mocking tone, “Don’t provoke him, James. He’s savage.”
“Positively,” agreed James, and Ransom could hear the smile in his voice.
As soon as they rounded the corner, Simon sighed heavily. “Those two are plotting something,” he said in an undertone. “I’ve heard the prince demand his father reward James with some new castle or lands. He’s always pleading his cause. It doesn’t speak well of the prince’s judgment, particularly since James is trying to charm Claire behind his back.”
“Has the king agreed?” Ransom asked, trying to temper his rage.
“Not yet. He’s too greedy. He doesn’t want to give anything away. Well. I’ve told you the worst. I don’t know what Lady Claire will do. But given your history with Sir James, I thought it best to warn you.”
“And I am grateful, truly.”
Yet, it wasn’t gratitude that Ransom felt churning inside him. He wanted to punch the stone wall with his fist. Yes, Claire could choose whomever she wished. But the thought of her marrying Sir James made him bristle with jealousy.
“I’ll leave you to your interview, then,” Simon said. “He’s in the solar at the moment. Is there anything you need reimbursement for from the king? Lord Ashel said you had wagons sent from Josselin with supplies for Bayree. Is that true?”
“It is, but I seek no compensation for doing the right thing,” Ransom said.
Simon smiled and chuckled. “Everyone is always begging for something from the king’s coffers. You might as well join them.”
“It’s not necessary,” Ransom said. He nodded to Simon and continued on his way to the stairs leading to the solar, leaving his friend behind.
After climbing up several steps, he stopped and put his hand on the wall, lowering his head to steady his emotions before he saw the king. His fingers coiled into a fist, and he shut his eyes, trying to let the anger leach away. How long he waited, he didn’t know. But he stayed like that until he heard footsteps coming, and then he started up the stairwell again, feeling the heat of the torches hanging from sconces in the wall as he passed them. His emotions were still churning, but not at the same fevered pitch.
When he reached the top, he went to the solar and tapped on the door.
“What is it?” barked the king’s voice.
Ransom pushed on the handle, and the door opened, revealing the scene within. A fire sizzled in the hearth, and the windows had been left open, letting in a cool night breeze and the sound of the distant falls, but the pleasant atmosphere was soured by the look of ill will between the king and Lord Kinghorn, who’d clearly been in the midst of a fraught conversation.
“I’m disturbing you.” Ransom apologized and started to close the door.
“No, come in,” said the king. “You are late, Ransom. I expected you yesterday.”
Ransom had not agreed to return at a certain time, nor had he been asked to. He eyed Lord Kinghorn worriedly, seeing the anger in the other man’s eyes.
“You may go, Bryon. We’ll address your concern in the king’s council tomorrow.”
“If that is what you wish,” said Lord Kinghorn. Ransom opened the door wider. He’d never seen the king quarrel with Lord Kinghorn before. It increased the unease in Ransom’s stomach, particularly since he valued his kinsman’s judgment. Lord Kinghorn nodded to him, but his brooding expression held no warmth.