Explore "The King Behind the King" by Warwick Deeping on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
In the Princess's chamber at the Wardrobe the real King sat on an oak hutch, kicking his heels against a panel upon which some craftsman had carved the Pelican in her Piety. The lad looked sulky and silent, or as though some inward pain were gnawing in him, the ache of his own shame.
Suddenly he started up, and went towards the door; but his mother, who had been kneeling at her _prie-dieu_, rose and put herself in his way.