“Your Majesty lies!” Reist thundered.
There was a deep and awful silence. Then Ughtred turned upon him, a fierce flash of anger in his blue eyes.
“Duke of Reist,” he said, “you are a privileged person at this Court, and I have called you my friend. You will unsay those words, or hand me your sword.”
“I repeat,” Reist said, fiercely, “that your Majesty lies.”
The King pointed to the open panel.
“Countess,” he ordered, “leave us. This matter is between your brother and myself. We can settle it best in your absence.”
She turned to her brother.
“Nicholas,” she said, “the King’s word is truth. I came here without any knowledge of his. I remained here against his will. It was unwise, perhaps, but the fault was mine. I wished to hear from his own lips what truth there was in these rumours of his coming marriage.”
“Was it your place to ask the King these things?” he demanded, fiercely. “Was it dignified or seemly of you—you, his affianced bride?”