"And under whose control is he now? Yours?"
Geoffrey's patience finally cracked. "The king is above all else!"
For years, they had circled one another with courtesy. He had respected her mind, feared her reach, endured her interference, and occasionally admired the sheer audacity with which she bent men to her will. But there were lines even she could not be permitted to cross.
Theodora rose slowly from the chair. "Do you want to make an enemy of me, Lord Langford?"
Geoffrey gave a thin, tired smile. He thought of Henry the boy no one had expected to wear a crown. "In the name of the king, yes, Your Grace."
"You know who I am," she said softly. "You know what I am capable of."
Geoffrey met her gaze without flinching. "Sadly, I do," he replied. "Which is why I think the king should never be under your thumb. Control his mistresses, fine by me," he said, with a dry lift of one hand. "If foolish women wish to fight for place in the king's bed, let them fight."
