“You may speak, FitzChivalry,” he said formally.
I drew a breath. “My liege, I would ask your permission to marry.”
The Fool’s eyes grew round with surprise. But my king smiled as indulgently as if I were a child begging a sweetmeat. “So. Finally, it has come. But surely you mean to court her first?”
My heart was thundering in my chest. My king looked entirely too knowing. But pleased, very pleased. I dared to hope. “May it please my king, I fear I have already begun to court her. Yet know I did not intend to do so presumptuously. It just … came about.”
He laughed good-naturedly. “Yes. Some things do. Though when you did not speak out sooner, I wondered what your intentions were, and if the lady had deceived herself.”
My mouth went dry. I could not breathe. How much did he know? He smiled at my terror.
“I have no objections. In fact, I am well pleased with your choice ….”
The smile that broke out on my face was amazingly echoed by one on the Fool’s countenance. I drew a trembling breath, until Shrewd continued, “But her father has reservations. He has told me that he would like to delay this, at least until her older sisters are pledged.”
“What?” I could barely utter the word. Confusion whirled in me. Shrewd smiled benignly.
“Your lady, it seems, is as good as her name. Celerity asked her father for permission to court you the very day you left for Buckkeep. I think you won her heart when you spoke so plainly to Virago. But Brawndy denied her, for the reason I have told you. I understand the lady raised quite a storm with her father, but Brawndy is a firm man. He did, however, send word to us, lest we take offense. He wishes us to know he has no opposition to the match itself, only to her preceding her sisters in marriage. I acceded in this. She is, I believe, but fourteen?”