Queen Hereafter by Susan Fraser King Page A

his sister coddles him overmuch and he should grow ballocks?”
    She drew a sharp breath at his crude reply. “I have watched over Edgar since we were children, after my father’s death, when our mother entrusted me with the welfare of my siblings. I do not have the right to speak on his behalf, but it is a habit of my heart.”
    “You should have children of your own if you feel such a tender calling. I, too, lost my father at an early age, but my brother and I were sent to different kin to be raised separately. Your interest is commendable, in that case. I understand that you are neither wed nor betrothed, Lady Margaret,” he added bluntly.
    She nearly bristled. Such inquiries should go to her brother. “I feel called to do God’s work rather than be married, sire.”
    “A nun?” He narrowed his eyes. “A waste of a good mind and a good bloodline.”
    He was distracting her from what she wanted to talk about. “Sire, allow me to speak my mind. You now host the Saxon royalty in your household, yet you have attacked the Saxons of Northumbria.”
    One brow lifted. “Hearsay only.”
    “Messengers reported it so. And Edgar brought slaves up from England, driven north by you. How will you be regarded after such deeds by your peers in royalty and authority, the leaders of the Low Countries, of France, the Holy Roman Empire, and others—such as those whose trade routes fill Scotland’s larders. The pope himself will hear of your deeds,” she added.
    “What does it matter to you?” he asked.
    “Surely you want the respect due Scotland’s king, and do not want to be seen as a mere brute.”
    He nodded slowly. “You think about more than broidery and prayer, it seems.”
    She thought he mocked her. “I have been given an education equal to any prince’s due to my rank. I was tutored in Greek and Hebrew, in the works of the holy fathers, in the stories of the Greek wars. You generously offered to loan me some of your books, sir,” she added. “I would like that. My mind is keen, and I wonder about many things, such as matters of kingship.”
    “Read whatever you like of my books. I have studied the treatises on laws and some others, but there are some on theology that you might find interesting. Robert the Norman has the cupboard key. As for the leaders of the world—my deeds are no worse than King William’s, and possibly better. Is there more you wish to say, Lady Margaret?” He seemed impatient to go.
    “I only wish to say that if you can help the Saxon cause, and support Edgar, then please do so sincerely. I believe you are an honorable man.”
    “Do you?” He inclined his head. “My thanks. Whatever I do, I discuss with my war council. Though I believe you could outreason some of that lot,” he added.
    She lifted her chin. “One other thing, sire. Whether or not you uphold Edgar’s cause, it may be best for my kinswomen and I to return home. These are my own thoughts. I do not speak for Edgar.”
    “You have no home,” he pointed out. “England is not safe andyour lands are forfeit there, and Hungary is very far away. I hear the warriors there are almost as savage as the Scots,” he said wryly.
    “The Magyars are tough as any. Sire, I am not concerned for myself, but for my kin. My mother wishes to return to Hungary where her uncle, good King Stephen, God rest his soul, is likely to be declared a saint. My lady mother could help further his beatification if she could return there. It is a very good cause,” she defended as he glowered, brows drawn.
    “A saint’s cause can be furthered anywhere, given ink and parchment, the price of a messenger, and rank important enough for Rome to notice. As for saints, we have those in Scotland, too. We are Christian, though it may surprise you, with your Roman rules.”
    “The Scottish Church is worthy, though very different from that of Rome, I have noticed.”
    “All prayers go heavenward.” He pointed his finger straight up. “What difference