At that, Edward laughed, and it was the laugh of the man he had known for years. He put an arm around Ranulf’s shoulder, leaned in with a fond smile and said warmly, “Next time I will spare you my very own confessor. And as your so generous liege lord, I very nearly gave you a fresh sin to confess, too. No, kill that curiosity I see in you, is a task needed doing while you were enjoying the hospitality of Ruardean. The time for it is gone and past, but we shall see if you may serve in other ways. Come tell us of the Lady Eluned, and how Ruardean fares without his master. Is too rare we have news from that corner of the March. Now your prayer is done, we will see you fed.”

The next hour was spent in the king’s private chamber, with his closest counselors there to ask about the borderlands, the towns, the roads, the people, the keep of Ruardean – the questions seemed endless. It took too long for him to notice the design behind their many queries, distracted as he was by the excellent food and ale served to him. It only registered as an expected interest in a region mysterious to many Normans and English. None from Ruardean had been to court since the last uprising in Wales, though, and soon Ranulf began to understand that Edward’s counselors, if not Edward himself, considered this an unfriendly gesture from a potentially unfriendly and assuredly powerful estate.

“Is the brother of Lord Walter who rules Ruardean now – Richard, is it?” asked Edward, who surely already knew the answer.

“In truth, I kept to myself at Ruardean and saw little of the family, save the Lady Eluned.”

A significant look seemed to pass between Burnell and King Edward. It was Burnell who spoke. “You are not the first to say the Welsh woman rules there.”

Ranulf took a long drink of ale and considered his dislike of Lady Eluned. But it was her daughter who came to his mind, and the weight of suspicion behind that single word: Welsh. The last thing he wanted was to wade into these politics. He was fortunate enough that whatever had caused Edward to send for him was no longer needed, and involving himself in political talk was the surest way to stumble upon a problem that Edward would use him to solve. He must step lightly here to avoid entanglement. He would go home to Morency, finally, and tend to his lands there. He would write the abbot at the White Brothers and ask that Alice’s brother come to him. He would have nothing more to do with Ruardean, or political maneuverings, or the court of the king.