«I do love being married, and to that woman», he confided, lifting his cup to Kenneth and then taking a sip. «Kenneth, have you never thought to remarry? You're still a young man».
Kenneth reached for his own cup to cover his discomfiture, wondering whether his interest in Alyce was that obvious.
«Hardly young, Sire. I am three-and-forty, and I have two daughters to support besides Zoë — and I assure you that I am exceedingly grateful of her place here at court. My sisters are raising the younger ones, so I need not worry for their daily care, but they all must be dowered. Hardly room there, I think, for a new wife and children».
«Humph. Then it seems I must find you a rich heiress», Donal said lightly. «You've certainly earned some more tangible mark of my favor than a mere thank-you. How many times is it, now, that you have saved me or one of my family?
«I was only doing my duty, Sire, as your liegeman», Kenneth protested.
Donal gave a snort. «More than that, I think». He cocked his head at the younger man, considering. «I don't suppose you might fancy that lovely filly who was just here with the queen? We heard you talking about horses».
Kenneth felt himself flushing, momentarily at a loss for words. Did the king think he had been campaigning for this all along?
«I would — never aspire that high, Sire. The gift of Lady Alyce's marriage is a powerful bargaining tool. You must use it to bind some great lord's loyalty. You already have my loyalty — and my life, if needs be».
«Yes, I'm aware of that», the king replied, his gaze going distant as he mulled the possibility. «That's why the notion suddenly makes a great deal of sense. For such a marriage would also bind the loyalty of your sons — one of whom would be the next Duke of Corwyn».
Kenneth could feel his pulse pounding in his temples, hardly able to comprehend what he was hearing — and tried not to let himself even begin to hope that it might come to pass.
«Allow me to consider this further», the king said then, standing in his place as Kenneth also got hastily to his feet. «We'll finish this tomorrow. Meanwhile, think on the possibility — that is, if the idea appeals to you».
«It does, Sire — how could I not be honored that you would even think it? But I–I am old enough to be the lady's father. She may not wish…»
«Nonsense. She shall marry where I say she shall. She knows her duty». The king picked up his wine cup and took a deep quaff. «Go now. I must give this further thought. We shall speak again on the matter».
Chapter 25
«A wise man shall promote himself to honor with his words, and he that hath understanding will please great men».[26]
Nothing more was said for many days. It was well into Advent before Sir Kenneth Morgan again found himself in a setting that permitted private conversation with the king.
He and Tiarnán MacRae had spent several hours that morning with the king and Seisyll Arilan, reviewing a sheaf of commissions delivered earlier from the royal chancery, all requiring the royal assent and seal. The snug withdrawing room was the perfect refuge from the weather outside, with a goodly fire on the grate and tapestries hung on the walls to keep the damp at bay: a favorite place for the king to work in wintertime. The scent of cinnamon, cloves, and lemons spiced the air, wafting upward from a pot of mulled wine warming near the fire.
«Thank you, Seisyll, Tiarnán. I think that will be all for now», the king said, leaning back in his chair to stretch. «Kenneth can help me deal with the rest of these. How is your leg this morning?» he added to Kenneth, as the others withdrew. «It's a dreadful day outside. Does the cold make your wound ache?»
Kenneth busied himself gathering up the documents, trying his best to be casual as he jogged them into a tidier stack and placed them in front of the king for signature. He had tried not to think too much about what they had discussed the last time they spoke privily — and especially, had tried not to get his hopes up.
«Thank you for asking, Sire. I'm mostly mended, I think. I rode for an hour yesterday, though I am feeling the effects today. But I attribute that more to a month out of the saddle than to the actual injury. In all, I am content».
«And I am happy to hear it». Donal scrawled his signature to a commission, glanced at the next, then pushed the remaining pile back to Kenneth. «There must be an easier way to deal with these. If you'll lay them out in a line, on that table over there, I'll move along behind you and sign them. They're the new year appointments, for Twelfth Night court. I approved them weeks ago».
Kenneth did as he was directed, then fetched a wax jack and lit it from one of the candles set on the table where they were working, for the documents must next be sealed. As Donal moved back to the first document, removing his signet ring, Kenneth brought the wax, tipping a little of it at the foot of the first decree.
«Thank you», the king murmured, setting seal to the wax and then moving along the line with Kenneth. «I've done some further thinking on that matter we discussed earlier».
He imprinted his seal again. Kenneth had stiffened, the wax jack in his hands, and turned his gaze cautiously on the king.
«Sire?»
«I am minded to give you the hand of Lady Alyce de Corwyn». He looked up as Kenneth froze. «That is what we were discussing, was it not?»
Kenneth found himself going scarlet, and only belatedly moved on to the next document, fumbling slightly as he drizzled the next dollop of wax.
«Sire, I–I had not dared to hope. I am — most grateful, but this still does not address the question of whether the lady will have me».
«If I say she'll have you, she'll have you», the king retorted. «It will be up to you to make the match work. You're a good man, Kenneth, and I should very much like to have your sons serve my sons. If they were also half Deryni, that would please me even more».
«Half Deryni», Kenneth repeated dazedly. «I confess that I had almost forgotten that».
«That the Lady Alyce is Deryni?» The king snorted. «I think that means far more to churchmen than to sensible folk like you and me. It doesn't frighten you, does it?»
«No, of course not», Kenneth replied hastily.
«She'd be an adornment for your arm», the king pointed out. «And her son will be Duke of Corwyn. Your son would be Duke of Corwyn, and you would be his principal regent — which means that you would enjoy all the benefits of being duke yourself, other than the title. Alas, I can't give you that, but your descendants would have it».
Kenneth found himself grinning ear-to-ear, hardly able to take it all in. «That isn't what attracted me, Sire».
«No, of course it isn't. But it doesn't hurt if one's prospective bride is rich».
'True enough».
«Good. Then, it's settled. I'll have the necessary documents drawn up. The betrothal can be announced at Twelfth Night court».
Alyce learned of the king's decision several days later, just before Christmas. Quite unexpectedly, Zoë had been sent to Morganhall to spend Christmas with her younger sisters and aunts, so Alyce let herself be caught up in the preparations of the queen's household for the Christmas and Twelfth Night festivities to come.
The Llanneddi mountain ponies for the elder princes had arrived the week before — and one for Krispin as well — so Duke Richard had organized an equestrian display for the squires and pages under his tutelage, inviting the queen and her ladies to observe an impromptu competition.