“Audience with the King.”
“He’s asleep. Or was before you came pounding and shouting. Be off with you.”
“A moment.” I shoved my booted foot into the closing door. With one free hand, I turned up the collar of my jerkin to expose the red-stoned pin I was seldom without. The door was closed firmly on my foot. I put a shoulder against it, leaned as much as I could without dropping the tray I still carried. “This was given to me by King Shrewd a number of years ago. With it he gave the promise that whenever I showed it, I would be admitted to see him.”
“Even if he’s asleep?” Wallace asked snidely.
“He placed no limitations on it. Do you?” I glared at him through the cracked door. He considered a moment, then stepped back from it.
“By all means, then, do come in. Come and see your king asleep, trying to get the rest he so badly needs in his condition. But do you disturb it, I as his healer shall tell him to take away that pretty pin and see that you do not bother him again.”
“You may recommend that as you wish. And if my king desires it, I shall not dispute it.”
He stood aside from me with an elaborate bow. I desperately wanted to knock that knowing sneer from his face, but I ignored it.
“Wonderful,” he elaborated as I passed him. “Sweet pastries to upset his digestion and tax him all the more. Thoughtful lad, aren’t you?”
I kept my temper. Shrewd was not in his sitting room. The bedchamber?
“Will you truly bother him there? Well, why not? You’ve shown no other manners, why should I expect consideration now?” Wallace’s voice was full of snide condescension.