Ms. Upton smiled, reminding him of the sun and how pleasant it was to stand beneath its light. “The station will match that, Mr. Lancaster. Your daughter’s disappearance is helping many eyes to open about crimes against women.”
Charles wasn’t sure he wanted to use his daughter’s disappearance as propaganda. “Let us find her first, and then we can open more eyes.”
He rose and dropped a twenty onto the table.
He was going to need help. He wasn’t sure how far he could or should go.
For Kestrel, he would give up anything.
*
“Where in Yorkdid you say you were from?”
Kes looked straight into the king’s eyes and gave him a slight smile. “Not York, Sire, but Bridlington. I’m from Bridlington. I believe.”
She lifted her cup and sipped her wine. She glanced around from where she sat at the head table, letting her gaze linger on the doors to the great hall.
Her knight wasn’t around for help. The king had sent him away to spy out a rumor of a group of Reds close by. Thankfully, before he left, they went over everything she needed to know about her life if the king asked. Where she grew up and who her parents were.
“You are quite lovely,” the king told her. “Your eyes are like gems in sea water.”
She sighed inwardly. “Your Majesty is too kind.”
“How is it that a woman like you is unwed? Are you a widow?”
“A woman like me, Sire?”
He grinned. “Well, you are not a fresh maiden, now are you? Twenty and two?”
“Twenty and five,” she corrected with no coyness at all. “I remain unwed because I am…barren.” Should she sniffle? Wipe a dry tear from her eye?
He laughed and leaned in. “Who cares about children? I would marry you just to fu—”
“Your Majesty,” she cut him off sharply, “do you think that crown gives you the right to speak to me that way?”
He gave her a hard look. “Aye, it does.”
“No,” she shook her head and went on boldly, “it does not.” She was sure Elia was having a breakdown beside her (after Kes had begged the king to let her sit there). “And I think your commander will agree when we ask him upon his return.”
He stared at her and Kes felt like someone was running their cold fingers up her spine. She had taken a bold chance, but there was just no way she could live with Richard salivating over her. Oh, he was angry. If looks could kill, she’d be pinned to the wall, bleeding out. She was a fool! This was the king in the fifteenth century! He would hang her!
“Perhaps ’twas a bit crass for your delicate ears,” he admitted, sitting back in his chair. “I meant it only as the highest form of praise.”
The chance had paid off. Hewasafraid of losing Nicholas’ support.
Was this guy the father of all the future assholes out there?
“Of course, Your Majesty.” She turned to Elia and rolled her eyes with exhaustion—and then realized that Reg was watching her. She held her hand to her head.
“I’m afraid I’m feeling unwell,” she told the head maid. “Would you take me to my room, Elia?”
“Of course, my dear. Excuse us, Sire.”
“No, wait. I will escort her.”
The head maid sighed and took Kes’ arm. “He will have my head and then yours if I leave her alone with anyone. Even you, Sire.”
Richard looked down his long nose at her. “I suppose you are correct.” He smiled suddenly. “And to show you that I mean no harm, I shall bid the lady good eve right here.” He turned to Kes and bowed, wishing her good night.