At that council, no more was said to Baudouin, and once supper was over the king did not stay to speak with anyone, going straight to the queen’s rooms, but next afternoon a servant sought Baudouin to tell him that his brother would see him privately that evening, for supper.

When he told Anna, his wife, she said nothing, watching with careful calm as her maids drew fresh clothes for him from the cedar chests and laid them ready on the bed. Only after the girls had gone, their soft steps dying away down the stone stair of the tower where Baudouin’s family was housed, did she turn swiftly, her eyes anxious.

“Take care. You will take care?”

He did not need to ask what she meant. “Oh, I will. But what can you fear for me? From all accounts his councils went well, and he was in a good enough temper at supper last night. Indeed, he spoke well of my fight down by the bay.”

“What else could he do?” The anxiety in her voice robbed it of sharpness. “He knows, who better, what the people think of you. But you and I know –”

“Anna!” He said it warningly, though they were alone in the tower room, and the walls were thick; but most people at March’s court were used to caution, and who more so than the king’s heirs?

“I’m sorry, love. No more. But take care.” She said it softly this time, then put a hand up to caress his cheek, and smiled. “The barber, my dear, before you go to this royal supper, and look, I finished the shirt while you were out on your adventures. Do you like it?”

He fingered the fine embroidery that she was holding, then pulled her to him and kissed her. “It’s beautiful. Like you, my love. Am I allowed to wear it, or is it to be laid away with herbs and cedar-wood for Alexander to inherit?”

She nestled closer, and her lips sought the hollow of his throat. “It is for you, every stitch of it, as well you know. But tonight? You would wear it tonight? Why trouble yourself just for – I mean, just for an ordinary talk and a supper?” Then, suddenly fierce, as if in spite of herself: “And doesn’t he hate you enough already, with everyone in the place dinning into his ears what a great fighter you are, and how the men love you and follow you, and now you want to go to him looking like a prince of the High Kingdom – as fine and as handsome as King Arthur himself?”

He laid a gentle hand to her lips. “Hush now, let that be enough. These things don’t need words. And we had best hurry. So, my love, help me put on my best for my brother the king. Yes, this beautiful shirt; why not? My thanks. And the collar of citrines. And now the dagger for my meat … No, nothing more. Can I go armed to sup with my brother?” He kissed her again. “Now, enough of your fretting, Anna. Get the boy to bed, and I’ll see you soon enough. I doubt if I’ll be late – you can be sure I won’t stay any longer than I have to!”