‘I don’t care what might happen.’ He was moving forward, because Berenger wanted him. He couldn’t keep the way that made him feel out of his voice, the pleasure of it, the new confidence. ‘You’re not poor now. You can afford me.’
Berenger was shaking his head. ‘Ancel, I’m not poor now. But if the Prince fails—’
‘If he fails,’ said Ancel. He was stepping into Berenger’s space. He put his hand on the laces of Berenger’s jacket, and Berenger didn’t move away. ‘But if he wins?’