I had never considered the two together in such a light. Something like fear nibbled at me. I pushed it aside.
“To be a King’s Man is my duty. Besides, was not this evening your suggestion?”
“It was. But I would have let the Fool’s words dissuade us from it. You were determined. You put no value at all on what it would do to you. Perhaps you should have a care for yourself.”
“I know what I’m doing.” I spoke more sharply than I intended, and Burrich did not reply. He poured the tea he had made, and handed it to me with a “see what I mean” look on his face. I took the mug and stared into the fire. He sat down on my clothing chest.
“Verity is alive,” I said quietly.
“So I heard the Queen say. I had never believed he was dead.” He accepted it very calmly. As calmly, as he added, “But we have no proof.”
“Proof? I spoke to him. The King spoke to him. Isn’t that enough?”
“For me, more than enough. For most other folks, well …”
“When the King recovers, he will bear me out. Verity lives.”
“I doubt it will be enough to prevent Regal from proclaiming himself King-in-Waiting. The ceremony is scheduled for next week. I think he would have done it tonight, save that every Duke must be present to witness it.”
Elfbark battling with exhaustion, or simply the unrelenting march of events, suddenly made the room tilt around me. I felt I had thrown myself in front of a wagon to stop it, and instead it had rolled over me. The Fool had been right. What I had done tonight counted for little, save the peace of mind it brought Kettricken. A sudden welling of despair filled me. I set down my empty cup. The Six Duchies kingdom was falling apart. My king-in-waiting, Verity, would return to a mockery of what he had left: a sundered country, a ravaged coastline, a plundered and empty Keep. Perhaps if I had believed in Elderlings, I could have found some way to believe it would all come out right. All I could see now was my failure.