You’re annoyed with me. Beg pardon. From now on, l shall be sure you are aware of me whenever I am with you. Shall I leave you to your day?
My own surliness had left me feeling embarrassed. No. Not yet. Ride with me a bit more while I visit King Shrewd. Let’s see how far we can carry this.
I sensed his assent. I paused before Shrewd’s door and balanced the tray with one hand as I hastily smoothed my hair back and tugged my jerkin straight. My hair had begun to be a problem lately. Jonqui had cut it short during one of my fevers in the mountains. Now that it was growing out, I didn’t know whether to tie it back in a tail as Burrich and the guardsmen did, or keep it at my shoulders as if I were a page still. I was much too old to wear it in the half braid of a child.
Tie it back, boy. I’d say you’d earned the right to wear it as a warrior, as much as any guardsman. Just don’t start fussing about it and twining it into oiled curls as Regal does.
I fought the smirk off my face and knocked at the door.
I waited a bit, then knocked again, more loudly.
Announce yourself and open it, Verity suggested.
“It’s FitzChivalry, sire. I’ve brought you something from Cook.” I set my hand to the door. It was latched from within.
That’s peculiar. It has never been my father’s way to latch a door. Put a man on it, yes, but not latch it and ignore someone knocking. Can you slip it?
Probably. But let me try knocking again first. I all but pounded on the door.
“A moment! A moment!” someone whispered from inside. But it was considerably more than that before several latches were undone and the door opened a hand’s width. Wallace peered out at me like a rat from under a cracked wall. “What do you want?” he demanded accusingly.