“Do you have ambition, Ransom?” James asked after they’d walked and joked for a time.
“What man doesn’t? I know you have plenty for both of us.”
“I do, it’s true,” the young man replied, chuckling. “I’ll inherit Dundrennan. That’s to be expected. But an inheritance won’t satisfy me. That is just an accident of birth. I have four brothers and two sisters. I did nothing to be born first. How many siblings do you have? Just a brother, right?”
“An elder brother. I have a sister as well.”
“Is she pretty?”
Ransom gave him a wary look, and James spluttered with laughter. “Look at your face! Trust me, she’s safe from my evil designs. Is the sister older or younger than you?”
“Younger. She’s thirteen.”
“I was just curious. No, I have my ambition set on Lord Archer’s daughter.”
Ransom felt a little tightening in his chest, just as he did whenever James bragged about the assistance his father had provided hers in reconquering Legault. The thought of James marrying Claire de Murrow made his insides feel rubbery and twisted.
“Being the Duke of North Cumbria isn’t enough. You want to be Duke of Glosstyr too?”
“And why not?” James said. “The king’s power increased when he married Lady Emiloh, the Duchess of Vexin. One could argue it was what helped him win the hollow crown.”
“Is that part of your ambition as well?” Ransom teased.
“I don’t want to be a king. Well . . . I’ll take that back. I wouldn’t mind being King of Legault. Sadly, Father says the women in that kingdom can choose who they marry and only their heirs become kings, not by marriage. What a strange notion. Our fathers should be allowed to settle the matter as has always been done. Alliances are a powerful tool.”
Ransom kept his expression uninterested and gave a little shrug. Inside he was seething.
“Have you met Lady Claire? You used to live at the palace. Didn’t she?”
“We were both children,” Ransom said, trying to conceal his growing discomfort.
“So you have met her. It’s a wonder you’ve never mentioned it before.”
Like I would ever share my heart with you, Ransom thought. Indeed, he’d gone to great pains to avoid any such discussion in the past, which was the very reason James did not know. Eager to steer the conversation to safer waters, he said, “Do you think your father might not have other plans for you? Atabyrion has always been a threat. You might be asked to marry one of those savages.”
“Of course, that’s another option. But the King of Atabyrion’s savage daughter is more of an age with your younger sister. I . . . I’m not interested, although it does happen. No, I think the Fair Isle sounds more to my taste. I wish I could have helped my father’s knights subdue those disloyal rogues. I could have met her then. Father said her hair is a peevish color, but I probably wouldn’t mind that too much . . . considering the gain in wealth and prestige.”
Ransom saw a wave snaking toward them. The tide was coming in faster. “Do you want to head to town?”
“You want me to stop talking about Lady Claire!” James said, his eyes flashing with excitement and mirth.
“No, the tide’s coming in.”
“You’re jealous. Admit it.”
“Why would I be jealous of a stewed prune like you?”
“Because you’re an eel skin.”
They traded barbs the rest of the way to town, each insult more outrageous than the last, intended to make the other snicker and break countenance. When they arrived at the market, Ransom put his hand on James’s shoulder.
“Look,” he said.
“What? The mayor’s daughter is bathing after all?” James said, then let out another laugh.
“No. Look. The knights from the castle are all here. There’s Sir Gordon, Sir Beckett, Sir Jude.”
James blinked in confusion and looked around in surprise. Yes, the knights had all gathered in the market with full purses. Some were looking at swords, others at saddles. The noise of the market was rowdy with so many customers at once. Normally, it was a much more sedate affair. James looked at Ransom in surprise, and they both approached one of the knights.
“What is it, a holiday?” James asked Sir Jude.
The knight gave him a serious look. “You don’t know? Where have you lads been?”
“We were walking on the beach,” Ransom said.
Sir Jude’s gray eyes were firm and without humor. “A rider from Kingfountain just arrived. Brugia has attacked our southern shores. We’re leaving in the morning, lads.”