Edmund bowed deeply. "My sincere apologies, Sire. It shall never happen again."
He released a deep breath, working greatly to dispel the anger. Slowly, it dissipated and he released his clenched teeth. "Very well then. Prepare accordingly for Brand's birthday." He commanded. "It should be beyond grand, befitting his title and age. After all, it is not everyday a young prince turns twenty."
"Yes, Sire." Edmund said. Alexander waved him away, and with a bow, he left the room.
He kept his eyes on the closed door in deep thought. Perhaps he could wait. After all, she would be by his side for the longest of time, so he would wait. If he demanded that a ball be thrown in her honour because of a neck jewellery, knowing Guinevere, she would withdraw again from him and all would be in vain, so he would wait.
