“It will come again,” he assured her, earnestly. “I give you my word that it will come again. That shall be my care. Yours is to see that next time he is prepared.”
“Why do you not yourself speak to him?” she asked.
He smiled.
“You know your brother. The knowledge should answer that question. He has sworn loyalty to Ughtred of Tyrnaus, and for good or for evil he will keep his vow. We must wait till the thing is inevitable.”
“And I,” she murmured, “I, too, am a Reist, and he is my king.”
“You are the first lady in Theos,” he answered, “and you will not be content to bend your knee day by day before a plebeian. I will prove to you that I am sincere. If the King seeks your hand in marriage, I will not raise a little finger against him. But we will not support another Tyrnaus in another reign of folly. We will not recognize a king who places by his side upon the throne the daughter of tradespeople.”
“It would be infamous,” she murmured.
“Dear lady,” he said softly, “try to forget that I am a Russian, or that Russia was ever your fancied enemy. An independent Theos is my policy, it is your religion. Let us work hand in hand.”
The old distrust was hard to smother. She gave him the tips of her fingers.
“You can speak with me again,” she said. “I make no promises. I will watch.”