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“You come from the palace? Whose man are you?”

Bryce’s chest swelled. “Earl Vawdrey’s,” he answered with pride. “His lordship has entrusted this delicate matter entirely to my hands. It is my first solo diplomatic mission.”

Konrad’s suspicions sharpened. “Mission?” he echoed. “What delicate matter?”

Bryce’s face fell. “Oh, I, er, meant the celebration of the feast,” he said lamely.

Konrad shrugged a mighty shoulder. “It is not my custom to celebrate feast days,” he said with a curl of his lip. “I must respectfully decline.”

“My lord!” Bryce’s cry was dismayed. “You surely do not mean to decline the king’s express invitation!”

“I am sure there are at least a dozen of my rank could dance attendance in my stead.”

“You misunderstand his majesty’s intent!” Bryce protested. “He does you great honor!”

Konrad threw him a scowl so fierce it made the ambassador wince. “I believe I will forego the honor, however it was intended.”

“My lord.” Bryce was so moved by this rejection that he went so far as to thrust the written invitation in Konrad’s face. So startled was Lord Kentigern by this act of boldness that he froze. The little man’s double chin shook. “I am persuaded you would not pass up so advantageous an opportunity as this gathering affords you,” Bryce hissed, looking around nervously.

What was this? Konrad pushed the paper away, but not as roughly as such impudence deserved. “What do you mean?” he demanded narrowing his eyes. He turned over what he knew about Oswald Vawdrey in his mind. The man was well known to be the king’s right-hand man and spymaster, but what could he want with him? “I doubt I would make an effective spy. Not with a face like mine,” he pointed out dryly.

Bryce sucked in his chubby cheeks. “I assure you –” he began hotly.

Kentigern waved a hand. “Never mind all that. Just get to the meat of the matter, or I will fling this ‘advantageous opportunity’ back in Wymer’s face, never doubt it. I’m no diplomat,” he finished gruffly.

Bryce appeared in the throes of some internal struggle. His face grew pink and shiny. “You put me in a very difficult position, my lord,” he complained fretfully. “Oh, very well!” he huffed when he saw the other’s dire expression. “Only, let us walk a little way off so we may not be overheard at least.”

There was no one within hearing, but Konrad suffered himself to be led some ten steps away before he came to an abrupt halt. “Well?”

Bryce glanced fussily left and right, his face assuming an expression of painful earnestness. “I don’t suppose you have heard tell of the rich spice merchant Gerold Ankatel?”

“Merchant?” Konrad repeated irritably, so far none the wiser. “I know of no merchants.”

“Over the past ten years, he has amassed quite a fortune. Some would go so far as to say he has established a spice empire, with trade routes encompassing all of Karadok, Samare, and the Western Isles.”

“Very enterprising. What of it?”

Bryce pursed his lips. “His success is such it hath garnered the attention even of the king himself.”

“By which,” Konrad cut in dryly. “You mean that some of his gold has found its way into the king’s money chests.”

Bryce coughed again. “Alas, the king’s coffers have been much depleted these past few years,” Bryce said sadly. “The late war took its toll …” Kentigern could tell the precise moment the little clerk realized he had blundered. A panicked look entered his eye. “O-of course,” he stammered. “The cost on human life was far higher than mere economic concerns.”

“Do not trouble yourself,” Kentigern’s cool words cut across Bryce’s embarrassed babble. “It is all water under the bridge now.”

Bryce paused a moment to catch his breath. “In short, Ankatel has been in a position to finance the king in certain ventures. He has been an invaluable ally to his majesty of late, and ‍–‍‍”

“What has all this to do with me?”

“He has two daughters of marriageable age!” Bryce blurted. The silence stretched as Konrad eyed him with growing incredulity.

“And?” he prompted sharply.

Bryce’s gaze fell. “M-my lord, I am sure I do not need to explain to you, that a man whose fortunes have dramatically risen in the world will look to better his offspring’s standing in life.” Bryce’s cheeks were stained scarlet by this point, and Konrad took pity on the stammering fool.

“He means to marry them off,” he replied shortly.

Bryce nodded his head, looking relieved he had caught his meaning. “Yes, my lord. He wishes to secure for his daughters the best possible matches he can.”