raging at nothing more serious than a petty slight to a woman. Wynter saw Jonathon register the strangeness of this, and she saw that sharpness in him that her father had so loved; that famous Kingsson intelligence, not yet completely destroyed by distress and wine.
‘What is wrong with you, boy?’ he said. ‘Do you take offence because of your mother?’
‘Majesty,’ she said, ‘my Lord Razi is not himself. Please. I beg you. Let me explain?’
Jonathon glared and did not give his permission for her to speak. Still Wynter approached, and placed the folder on the table by his clenched fist. ‘Your Majesty, these are from your heir. The Royal Prince bid his brother take them to you. He bid him explain that his intention was never to usurp you as King. The Royal Prince’s only wish is to present to you his plans for the future.’
The King regarded the folio with a kind of numbness. His big hand slid a little on the surface of the table, as if he wished to touch the leather folder, but he did not. Wynter took a chance on leaning in a little and softening slightly the courtly tone of her voice: ‘Your Majesty,’ she said, ‘whatever your differences, the Royal Prince does not wish to grasp the throne. With respect, your Majesty, he wishes only to strengthen your kingdom.’
The King met her eye. ‘He has done a poor job of that,’ he said.
He was close enough for Wynter to smell the wine from his breath. She could smell camp fire from his clothes. ‘May I suggest that there were two of you involved in that particular misadventure, your Majesty?’
Rage flared again in the King’s face. ‘Do not mistake yourself for your father, girl. Lorcan was the one person in this life who ever talked thus to me. No one shall take his place, whether they carry his name or not.’
Despite the prickle of fear in her belly, Wynter held the King’s eye and whispered, ‘I cannot help but feel that had you allowed your heir to speak thus to you, much of this kingdom’s recent problems may have been forestalled. It seems that a little more talk and a little less rage may well have calmed this storm before it even began.’
‘My heir has stolen and broadcast that which I wished suppressed. He has machinated behind my back, twisting deals with my enemies. His actions have poisoned court against his brother and divided my men. What is it you would like me to do about that, girl? Shrug in defeat and hand him my crown?’
The stark truth of this twisted like a knife in Wynter’s heart, the enormity of Jonathon’s problem suddenly horribly clear. In the face of Alberon’s very public defiance, what choice did Jonathon really have? Either he was King or he was not. Either his heir bowed to his will or he did not. It was how kingdoms worked. It was the way of the world. Alberon wished the country run one way, Jonathon wished it run another. Their visions were irreconcilable, and one of them must bow or one of them must die. That was the black and white of it. Wynter drew back, lost for words, and Jonathon nodded.
‘So I am undone,’ he said.
‘But you will speak with your heir now?’ asked Razi.
‘Have I a choice?’ muttered the King. ‘Now that he has sniffed me out.’
Razi frowned across at Wynter. What could that mean?
The King tutted at him. ‘Stop hovering like a God-cursed chambermaid, boy.’ He gestured bitterly to the folder. ‘Come here and summarise your brother’s terms. I assume he’s only hours behind you, and I shan’t sit here reading this pap while his men advance upon me.’
‘But, your Majesty,’ said Wynter, ‘the Prince’s men do not advance. Alberon travels with only—’
‘Oh, enough, girl! Jesu Christi, you are like a crow cawing incessantly in my ear! I asked the boy, dammit! Razi, get over here and detail me your brother’s terms before I lose my patience entirely and greet him with your head on a pike.’
At Razi’s hesitation, the King glared up from under his brows. Razi swallowed hard at the warning in his face. ‘I . . . I cannot detail the documents, Majesty. I do not know what they contain.’
‘You pledged your support to your brother without discussing his aims?’ growled the King. ‘You?’ Razi flickered a glance at Wynter, and the King turned his head to stare at her in disbelief. ‘Once again, I