The earl nodded. “I was informed of the gossip from the previous assembly with Talbot, and of course, took it upon myself to research my relative Lisbeth, who we were told had died shortly after leaving England. I did not know that she had married. Nor that it was to an Indian prince. I was only ten when she was removed from the family annals by my granduncle, the then earl. We were only told never to speak of her and that she had disgraced the family name by running off with a colonial laborer.”

“Not a laborer,” Rhystan said. “A prince who worshipped the ground she walked on and showered her with every affection. And then gave her a daughter they both adored. Until her death a decade ago, your aunt was loved.”

“Thank you for that. I’m glad she had a happy life, at least.”

Rhystan cleared his throat, not adding that it was likely Lady Lisbeth had been poisoned because of deeply ingrained prejudices, much like those Sarani faced. “And your cousin?”

“Whenever she is ready, I wish to get to know her,” he said. “And I wish for my wife and children to know her as well. We are family, after all.”

“Why didn’t you say anything to the newssheets when asked about being possible relations?”

The earl inclined his head. “It was not my place, and I wanted to respect her privacy.”

An unfamiliar emotion expanded and thickened in Rhystan’s chest. It was gratitude mixed with a growing esteem. “And now, do you not care what everyone will think?”

Beckforth smiled. “The thing about scandal, Your Grace, is that it only hurts you if you choose to let it, and in the grand scheme of things, it’s just noise, fleeting and irrelevant. My family has been touched by more than its fair share. I am the grandson of a pig farmer on my mother’s side. We were poor as dirt, but we were loved, and when I became earl, others shunned us because of that. I vowed never to let anything get in the way of family. Or love.”

Rhystan was silent for a moment, suspecting that last part was meant for him, but then he nodded. “I will pass on the message. Thank you, Beckforth.”

After the earl took his leave, Rhystan considered what he’d said. As much as his peers pretended they were better than everyone else, they weren’t. They had the same flaws and the same fears. All that separated them from their common-born brothers were chance and circumstance of birth.