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Fen struggled with a reply. “I’m afraid,” she said selecting her words carefully. “That his majesty is not pleased by my marriage to Lord Vawdrey.”

“Nonsense,” said Eden with a frown. “It is very much remarked upon how he singles you out.” And I am sure,” she added complacently. “That he means the highest respect to your husband by doing so.”

“Perhaps,” conceded Fen weakly. After all, he did seem most concerned that she was a troublesome wife to Oswald. She sighed and vowed to ask her husband for advice on how to handle Wymer’s dislike at some later point. “My husband seems to think that King Wymer will suddenly one day realize he does not detest me after all. Sadly, I think he is somewhat optimistic.”

Eden played with her handkerchief. “On the whole I think Lord Vawdrey may be right. His majesty has shown great favoritism in paying you attention today.”

Fen spluttered. “You would not say so if you had heard the topic of our conversation.”

On this though, Eden refused to believe her.

**

Oswald found his wife extremely quiet that evening as she prepared for bed. On the one hand, he appreciated the quiet, as he was exhausted after a long day maneuvering ministers into doing what he wanted. On the other hand, he felt immediately uneasy and wanted to know what was on her mind. She barely spoke a word as she undressed and braided her hair in a single rope. He watched her covertly in the mirrored glass, as he stood shaving over the washing basin. She climbed into the bed and lay there a moment with her hands clasped over her stomach. “Is there any especial reason why your brother Roland won’t take his own personal squire?” she asked him, surprising him.

How the hells should I know? was what sprang tetchily to his lips, but he tamped that response down and instead grunted “No, not that I’m aware.”

“Poor Cuthbert wants most dreadfully to attend the tournaments and jousts and so forth,” she said confidingly. “I suggested he squired for Roland for a time here at court, but when he asked him, your brother turned him down. Rather ignominiously as I understand it.”

“Sounds like Roland,” said Oswald sourly. He had no idea why his wife thought their bedchamber was the place to ask him questions about his own brother. He didn’t appreciate it. Not one bit.

She lapsed into silence for a moment. “I went to an audience with the King and Queen today,” she said surprising him. “It was funny but…” her words trailed off, a faint frown on her face.

Oswald half turned to look over his shoulder at her. “Our exalted rulers,” he said dryly. “What about them?”

“Do you think they actually like each other?” asked Fen looking confused.

“I don’t think ‘like’ comes into it,” he answered with a shrug. “Their marriage was arranged to align the houses of Lisle and Argent.”

Fen considered this. “Yes,” she said after a moment or two. “But, that’s not really all that different to most marriages at court.” She sounded a little sad.

Oswald frowned and swung back round to look at her. “They didn’t meet until Armenal was fetched from her ship at the port and transported to the cathedral,” he said dryly. “Whereas we met several times, over a three year period.” He watched her turn pink. He just knew she had been comparing them. He turned back to the mirror, but his attention was still mostly on her as he dragged the straight razor down his jaw.

“It’s almost like…” she bit her bottom lip. “Like, they’re opponents…”

“In the midst of some kind of battle,” he finished for her

Fen sat up in the bed. “Yes,” she said looking impressed. “That’s exactly what it’s like.”

He turned back around to face her, wiping his face down with a cloth. “That’s because they are.”

“But I don’t think the King’s fully aware of the fact,” she said. “Or, if he is, then he doesn’t realize that the Queen’s much better at it than he is.”

Oswald smiled grimly and he threw down his cloth. “That is something you might not want to repeat outside of these four walls.”

“I wouldn’t say it to anyone else,” she said guiltily and lay back down, flat on her back. Oswald breathed out and started unbuttoning his cuffs.

“They say the King loved his first wife Queen Eleanor. Do you suppose that is true?”

Oswald shot a look at her, but she was staring resolutely at the ceiling.

“I wouldn’t know,” he said carefully, after a heavy pause. “She had already died by the time I became a permanent fixture at court.”

If Wymer had loved his first Queen, thought Oswald, he had certainly not been faithful to her. He knew of at least two royal bastards from that era that were common knowledge. He decided not to share this with Fen.

“People are saying that the King may divorce Queen Armenal, and instead marry the Princess Una,” she rambled on.

Oswald drew in a breath. “Are they?” It was frankly news to him. He pulled a face as he shrugged off his tunic. He doubted the King would appreciate such a rumor. “You should not set much store by gossip,” he said. “There is not often much substance to it.”