The Dark Knight (55 page)

“It is a daughter’s duty to obey her father,” I said in an even tone. “It is the duty of a princess to serve her country and to obey her king. Do you suggest I commit treason?”

“Refusing a suitor is hardly grounds for treason,” he growled. “You are the daughter of a king and the widow of a crown prince. Aside from my unsavory reputation and ambitions, one of my grandfathers was in trade, the other was a lowly knight in service to your great uncle at Pembroke. My grandmothers are even less illustrious. The only reason we hold any title at all is because my father happened to be in the right place to save your grandfather’s life on the battlefield. Will you truly be content with a man of such ill-repute with so low a rank, a man with the blood of commoners in his veins?”

His questions gave me pause. He was the first person who expected me to voice an opinion on the matter. I wondered why he cared. My opinion counted for nothing. It certainly wouldn’t make a difference in our circumstances.

And then his strategy became suddenly clear. He could not refuse the betrothal without gravely insulting his king. Men had found themselves locked in the Tower for more minor offenses, and it sounded as if he had been promised exactly that outcome. Faulke obviously valued his freedom and thought there was another escape from the trap of our marriage. “Do you think I have some choice in this matter?”

“Daughters hold a special place in the hearts of their fathers,” he said with a small shrug. “Surely your father would take your happiness into consideration.”

Was he jesting? If my father had a special place in his heart for paternal love and affection, I had never encountered
it. But the children of kings are a far different matter than the children of commoners, or, more specifically, the children of a newly made baron. Faulke had three daughters. Did they hold a special place in
his
heart? What a novel concept.

“The king is most assuredly unlike most fathers,” I said. “He takes into consideration what is best for England, which also happens to be what is best for him. I suppose he hopes for my happiness, but I am certain it is a sacrifice he is willing to make should he be forced to choose between my happiness and the good of the realm.”

Faulke studied my face for a long moment, and then he tilted his head forward to rub his brow. His shoulders dropped and I could almost see the fight seep out of him. “Then it seems we are to be married.”