Free Revenge of the Rose by Nicole Galland

odd that this Willem fellow has such an illustrious record and yet we’ve never heard of him,” Marcus interrupted.
    “You’re just jealous because your best days are behind you,” Konrad said.
    “He also sounds suspiciously magnanimous,” observed Marcus.
    “I refuse to consider that a failing,” said Konrad, laughing. “It’s a relief, frankly, to know there is somebody in the Empire other than the emperor himself who makes a habit of generosity.”
    The word generosity made Marcus think of the trusting look on Imogen’s face the first time he had entirely undressed her. With an embarrassed blink he shook the thought away. “Sire, with all due respect, it is reasonable and believable that you would host a feast after a tournament, but for a knight who can barely keep one squire— “
    “Oh, hush, Marcus,” Konrad said cheerfully, enjoying the cheese. “Jouglet, Marcus is getting petulant, and we both know why, so go and summon my uncle, would you? Wine,” he added, to another page boy.
    “I saw milord Count on my way up here, Your Majesty. I think he was going in search of carnal debauchery,” the minstrel answered, not wanting to get up from the sun-drenched cushions quite yet. Koenigsbourg Castle deserved its reputation for cold and damp, but in summertime the window seats of these southern chambers were sublime, with a warm breeze and a commanding view of the foothills tapering toward the Rhine Valley.
    Konrad made a self-righteous face. “Yet he turns up his nose at my summer bacchanalia as if it were the devil’s own invention.”
    “I believe your Lord Uncle prefers his carnalities in a blunter form,” Jouglet said dryly and added with quiet disgust, “he simply rapes the kitchen girls.”
    “Oh,” Konrad said, disinterested. “Well, then, look for him in the kitchen, I suppose.” Beside him, his expressionless page boy decanted a skin of Moselle into a thick glass cup. The boy handed him the cup, and he drained it in one swallow as he gestured impatiently with his free hand at his musician. Jouglet reluctantly rose from the striped cushions, slipped past the two men, bowed, and left the room.
    “I always beat Jouglet at chess,” Konrad said after a thoughtful pause.
    “No, you don’t, actually,” Marcus informed him.
    Konrad grinned ruefully. “I knew that.”
    A pause. Marcus fidgeted with a black bishop from the chessboard, whose tapered head felt to his fingers like one of Imogen’s nipples. In his distraction he almost brought it to his mouth. “If you are calling Alphonse for the reason I think you are, I thank you, Konrad.”
    The king shook his head and yawned, rubbing his broad face with one broad hand. “Don’t thank me yet, I’m not going to demand he set the wedding date.” Seeing Marcus’s dismay, he added with irritation, “Oh, Christ, you haven’t got her with child, have you?”
    Marcus looked insulted. “Of course not, sire.”
    “If you’re playing me for a fool, Marcus, I’ll banish you.”
    “I told you she is still a virgin, sire.”
    “Good, because I may yet need to marry her to someone else, and she’s too important for me not to punish whoever sullies her before she’s wed.”
    “I would never…sully her, sire,” Marcus said quietly.
    “Then what’s the rush?”
    “I want to be with her,” Marcus said softly, knowing it would be impossible to make him understand that.
    Konrad made a dismissive gesture and tossed the wine cup back to the serving boy with a gesture for more. “Oh, I thought it was something serious. Alphonse has got us by the balls right now. I hoped a betrothal would satisfy him— he can’t marry her to me, so I gave him my very right arm, the man who is practically my own heart— “
    “I am honored, sire,” Marcus said quietly.
    “Don’t be.” Konrad accepted the fresh wine cup. “It is his religion to loathe your entire class, Marcus, regardless of your particular worth. As long as it’s only a betrothal,