"A good philosophy for the next world," said Charles scornfully.
"It is the philosophy by which your brother rules in this world," said Simon fiercely. "And that is why everyone loves him. Not just his own French subjects, but all Christians."
Charles's olive skin darkened to a purple shade. "Consider this, Messire—when Louis last went to war he led a whole army to destruction in Egypt. When I go to war, I lead my army to victory and the spoils of a fair and prosperous kingdom. Louis was born a king. I made myself a king. Now. Which of us is the better ruler? Answer me that."
Simon stared at Charles's engorged face and felt dizzy with triumph. Not only had he lost all fear of Charles d'Anjou, but he had broken through Charles's mask of regal authority and had provoked him to reveal his naked envy of his brother.
He answered quietly, "You might conquer this whole world, and my sovereign seigneur, King Louis, would still be a better king than you are. And a better man."
Charles stared at Simon, his eyes huge and thick veins standing out in his temples. Simon stared back, keeping himself outwardly calm, but inwardly exulting in his new freedom.
There is nothing I need prove to this man or to anyone else. I am myself.
The last bond of loyalty between himself and Charles d'Anjou was broken.
The silence stretched on, until it seemed to Simon that this was the longest moment of his life.
Charles blinked and let out several long breaths. "Ah, well. As God is my witness, you and my brother are two of a kind. You deserve each other." He shook his arms, which he had been holding rigid at his sides, and reached up and tapped the crown down more firmly on his head.