Picking up his memorandum tablet again, from where he had dropped it on the breakfast table, the King made another note, to remind him to send the necessary message to Lancaster during the morning.
"Send message to Lancaster."
The fact that he was not sure whether Lancaster, or even William, would still be in town, emphasized, in his own mind, his ignorance of the Family.
At this point, the gorgeously clad footmen approached the table. One of them removed the used dishes and plates. The other placed a stand of fresh fruit in front of the King.
The King selected an apple, and proceeded to munch it like any schoolboy.
It was a good apple.
After all, life had its compensations!
And, he suddenly realized now, he was beginning to take hold of his job, at last. This decision of his to tackle the Family, to get to know them personally, was his own decision. It was an expression of his own individuality, the exercise of his own will. The thought gave him a little thrill of pride, and pleasure. Perhaps, after all, there was going to be some scope, some freedom, for his own personality, in his place in the procession, more scope, more freedom than he had been inclined to think. His own shoulders, directed by his own brain, might make a difference in the jostling in the market-place. If the opportunity arose, he would put his weight into the scrimmage.
The King finished his apple, and then filled and lit his pipe.
The footmen cleared away the breakfast things.