‘You’ve seen me now, and I’ve seen you,’ said the King. ‘I hear you’ve given me some fish for a kin-gift, so I suppose I should give you something too. What do you want? That ghastly salt cellar those goldsmiths are always so eager to look at, Charter knows why?’

Clariel shook her head, thinking furiously. She hadn’t realised that the kin-gift worked both ways. She was surprised her mother hadn’t told her to ask for the salt cellar, but perhaps Jaciel had not expected the King to offer a gift.

‘I … I would like you to … give the Borderers the money they need to continue their work,’ she said. ‘To keep on looking after the Great Forest, and all the woods –’

‘No, no,’ said the King, shaking his head so much his beard whipped around to his other shoulder and his lower lip stuck out. ‘I don’t want to be bothered with anything like that. Fifty years I’ve had of it, and that’s enough! Tathiel should be taking care of all that stuff. She’s a good girl. As soon as she hears of my troubles, she’ll come back. I’m sure of it. Another week, perhaps, and then she’ll be here …’

‘There, there, Your Highness,’ soothed the servant, with a poisonous glance at Clariel. ‘Drink up your tea, you’ll feel better in a moment.’

‘No I won’t,’ cried the King. ‘I’m all upset. Ask for something sensible, girl.’

‘I did ask for something sensible,’ replied Clariel.

‘Don’t argue with me!’ snapped the King. ‘Do you want to upset me?’

‘Maybe you need some upsetting,’ said Clariel, feeling her anger mount. ‘Are you just going to let Kilp and people like him do whatever they want?’

‘It’s Tathiel’s problem, not mine,’ muttered the King. His head had sunk into his chest and he looked more and more like a sulky child. ‘She should have come for the crown long ago. Let Tathiel tussle with Kilp and the Guilds and all the petitioners and difficulties. I want some peace! I’ve earned some peace!’

‘Do you know what’s happening to Belisaere and the Kingdom while you stare out at the sea up here and drink tea?’ asked Clariel.

‘I don’t care!’ shouted the King. He was almost sobbing. ‘I’ve had to care for too long and I’m past caring! Why does everything depend on me? Gully, give her that salt cellar. Anything! Just get her out of my sight!’

‘I’m ashamed to be your cousin!’ said Clariel, her voice growing louder with each word till she was nearly shouting too. ‘If you won’t act like a king you shouldn’t be one!’

‘Come away, Lady Clariel,’ said Gullaine very softly, near her ear, with her hand firmly on Clariel’s elbow. ‘He is very old, remember. Come away.’

chapter fifteen

earning a mother’s favour