Snippet #1469863

Henry frowned. What did he mean, the only way you'll hear my opinion? The boy was free to speak to him whenever he wished, providing the king was not busy with affairs of state. It did not enter his mind that Lionel could resent him for the years spent mostly ignored, without a word of affection. After all, it had been done for Lionel's benefit, to prepare him as a king and warrior. Yet for all that he did not notice, Henry was not stupid and he could catch, just beneath the surface, what felt like a thread of pain. He was ready to ask how he could possibly feel he was ignored (being heir to the throne, after all) when Lionel spoke the words that a lesser man of the court would not have dared.

"You impudent, stupid boy," Henry growled and rose from his throne. His hands trembled.

Had a servant dared to speak thus, he would have struck him down. Perhaps even a nobleman. Even now, he felt the killing urge in his veins. He looked at Lionel and the urge died, retreated to disappointed anger. For all the trouble he caused now, Henry could remember him as the newborn infant, the child that he had bragged of to all who would listen, that he had nothing but the highest of hopes and dreams for. Where, along those seventeen years, had he become this?

"You will marry a Greyhardt because it is tradition to marry one's allies. Were you to pay more attention to your tutors, you might know that. It is not because of any fear or weakness. But you are correct in that my seat on this throne is not permanent. When I die, you will rule in my place. And when you die, your son will rule. All that is permanent is that it shall belong to the House of Damian."

Suddenly, he remembered Raban. How easy it was to forget his youngest.

"Is this not true, Raban?"