Such were the words spoken in the chamber of the Princess, but in the King’s chamber stranger words were passing between strong men.
“I have done your work, sirs; now leave me to mine.”
Fulk was walking to and fro, driven by his own desires. Yet three men baulked him—Salisbury, Knollys, and Cavendish the squire, standing with their backs to the door while he paced up and down.
“We have not uncrowned you yet, Fulk Ferrers.”
“What if I uncrown myself?”
Salisbury’s eyes were grim.
“By my faith, we will call it treason. Listen to me, my master; the danger is with us still—aye, greater danger, because some men are desperate. You are ours till it is past.”
Fulk faced him, head in air.
“Treason, my lord! Speak not big words to me. What I choose I choose.”
“Big words are in other mouths. Cavendish—here, speak up, good Cavendish.”