Page 6 of The Sun King's Noon

“Sir Kaelen,” he said curtly. “Sit. You will not address my council unless I ask. These good people hold greater wisdom and experience, and know well to obey their king.”

Kaelen’s spine went rigid. His flush deepened and climbed to his cheeks, prompting sniggers. With a hard swallow, Kaelen bowed and sank into his seat.

Ignoring Corwin and Elara’s immediate glares, Richard leaned forward and spoke sternly. “The Summer Ball will proceed in a fortnight.”

All councillors watched with intent eyes.

“You will do your parts.” Richard met their gaze. “And you will do them with competence. If you cannot manage that, I shall find another who can.”

A few gulped.

“War looms, my lords and ladies. Now, more than ever, is the time for cooperation. When our guests arrive, let us show them true Ardenian hospitality. Let us show Galdran the meaning of a nation, which stands strong with friends.”

CHAPTER 3

By nightfall, Richard’s bath was ready. The scent of sage and rose petals infused his bedchamber, making him pleasantly drowsy as he sank deep into the tub. Water lapped at his collarbones, loosening his limbs. With a pleased hum, Richard closed his eyes.

In front of him, his manservant was singing tunelessly. Water splashed as William rinsed a cloth. “Mind yer ears, milord. Water’s hot enough t’ boil a crab.”

“It cannot harm me,” Richard said. William often forgot that his bloodline was immune to flame and scalding water.

“Ah.” William chortled. “Keep forgetting, milord. Me wife says I’d leave me head at home if it weren’t stuck to me neck. Even the little ones tease me so.”

Richard cracked his eyelids open, watching William scrub at his arms. His bald head glistened with sweat, and his round face was bright with cheer. Richard had never seen him disgruntled. Supposedly, such was the blessing of being Head Cook Shirley’s husband.

William scuttled around behind him. “Hold still, milord. You got a knot the size of a turnip right there.”

His thick fingers dug in, and Richard melted as the pressure gave way to relief. “I can never seem to evade them.”

“Well, it’s no surprise, milord. You keep carryin’ the whole castle on yer own.”

His burly hands kneaded down the slope of Richard’s shoulders. Richard stiffened when the fingers neared the tattoo, but as always, William steered clear of it.

Richard’s eyes drifted closed, his body relaxing entirely. Just as sleep loomed, an image of Kaelen—cheeks flushed, throat bobbing—flitted through his mind. He sighed.

William’s hands paused. “Milord’s sighin’ an awful lot today.”

“Am I now?”

“Been around since you were a babe, milord. I know when you’re thinkin’ and when you’re broodin’. That there’s broodin’.”

That was true enough. It was one of the reasons Richard kept the tattoo visible to the servant. William did not let secrets spill.

“I upset someone.”

“Oh?”

“I had no choice.” Richard tilted his head so William could lather soap on his nape. “It was necessary.”

“Well. Whenever I upset me good wife, I make sure to give a good apology.”

Richard snorted. “This person is not my good wife. And regardless—” He frowned at his knees. “I am the king. I cannot stoop to beg forgiveness from another.”

“Oh no, milord.” William’s tone turned chiding. “There’s no such thing as king, or lord, or any other fancy power, between two lovers.”

“This person is not my lover.” When William chuckled, Richard glowered at him over his shoulder. “This person is not my lover.”

William’s grin widened. “Beg pardon, milord. But I’m only sayin’ what’s true. It ain’t your crown they want. That thing’s cold and heavy. It’s you. And you can’t reach a man or woman if you’re standin’ on a step above them.”