" A forest," William said, his expression distant. " Where the ground is dry soil and stone. Where tall trees grow and centuries of autumn carpet their roots. Where the wind smells of game and wildflowers." " Why, that was lovely, Lord Bill. Do you ever write poetry? Something for your blueblood lady?" " No." " She doesn't like poetry?" " Leave it." Hehe. " Oh, so you have a lady. How interes-- "