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unburdened Willem of these estates before Willem could walk.”
    Konrad frowned and sat up a little. “When was this?”
    Jouglet waved a dismissive hand. “You were not come to your throne yet. There was a lot of corruption below your father’s ken. I would guess that you have never heard of Willem in part because the count has kept him in the dirt. But that is my guess only, sire; you know I do not claim anything as factual unless I can present some evidence, which I cannot do in this case.”
    Konrad began to sit up, as if he would call his uncle to account that very moment. “If it was held from the crown, then Alphonse had no right to take it! I’m sick of that scheming whoreson— “
    “There’s no proof of what I’ve just told you, sire. It is, I say again, merely gossip,” Jouglet said soothingly, and waited until Konrad, with an annoyed grimace, relaxed back into the chair. “Anyhow, whatever the real story, Willem’s uncle stepped in and gave him enough to support Lienor and his mother, and he has a rather tragic attachment to their poverty. Which is a pity, because he’s the best fighter I’ve ever seen. He could probably win half a county with his skill in tourney, but he can’t afford to keep enough men with him to fight often enough.” That last part, at least, was something Jouglet knew for fact.
    Konrad frowned. “Willem is a Flemish name. The Flemish are allied with the French.”
    “He’s pure Burgundy stock back to the dawn of time,” Jouglet assured him. “His father was a renowned tournament rider in his youth, and Willem was the name of his closest cohort, a Flemish knight with whom he went round the tourney circuit.”
    “I need good men in Burgundy,” the emperor mused. “I have been thinking a few well-placed soldiers down there might be useful. In fact, I’ve been contemplating the creation of a new military order— knights who would answer only to me directly, not to Alphonse or any of the minor lords. A sort of secular Knights Templar. Knights Imperial, something like that. Is he so grand as to be worthy of it?”
    Jouglet’s eyes widened with a surprised pleasure that masqueraded, convincingly, as doubt. “I don’t know if he’d have any interest in such a heady exaltation, sire. Count Alphonse has never acknowledged him as he generally does the local knights, so for lack of habit, he lacks ambition. Except to make himself as close to Galahad as anyone could hope to be.” A grin and a lecherous little chuckle. “Now let me tell you about Lienor. Lienor of the golden tresses and adorable pert breasts.”
    Konrad smiled. “Very well. Tell me about Lienor. Of the pretty epithets.”
    “She’s a pretty lady, sire.” With both hands Jouglet outlined an exaggerated female silhouette in the air. “Imagine this: wide-set emerald eyes with long dark lashes, a perfect, perfect heart-shaped face, hair as blond as that of Lady Agnes, falling in soft ringlets past her elbows with flowers bedecking her hair— fresh flowers every day that smell so good when you sidle up beside her it takes all your chivalrous restraint not to throw yourself on top of her, and try to sip the nectar out of all her hidden little nooks.”
    Konrad laughed approvingly. “Jouglet, you’re very naughty.”
    “Truly, sire, she is delicious. I would have seduced her were I not terrified of Willem’s wringing my neck. But she remains as pure as the driven snow, as chaste, as virginal as— “
    “Don’t ruin it with obvious hyperbole,” Konrad chastised, interrupting. “How can she be married and yet virginal? Is she a child bride? Or frigid?— is that the twist to the tale?”
    Jouglet looked taken aback. “But she’s not married, sire.” And seeing Konrad’s confused expression, explained hurriedly, “Oh, no, I apologize. I said a pair— I meant a pair of siblings. Did I not say that? How careless of me. They are brother and sister and both unmarried.”
    Konrad was suddenly very