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Page 21
"Yes, but not in that tone of voice if you wish Henry to moderate his actions," Geoffrey pointed out. "I do not say that Henry cannot be forced, but if he is, he will remember and hold a spite. On the other hand, if he can be convinced by soft words, the same end can be achieved without making him hate us."
A chorus of women's voices agreed and went on to suggest methods of leading the king away from his folly, but Simon did not hear. When his father said the word Wales, a face had risen into his mind's eye, a voice had sounded, not in his ear but on his heartstrings. Rhiannon! Rhiannon of the Birdsshe whose bare feet twinkled like silver in the dew-starred, moonlit grass of a high valley, whose silvery white hands drew silver songs from the silver strings of her harp, whose streaming hair was perfumed with the wild flowers and mosses and rich earth, whose lips tasted of wild strawberries from the high pastures warmed with the spring sun. Rhiannon! The only woman he had ever lovedand she would not have him.

Simon could not remember a time when he had not tumbled females. Even before puberty, he had wielded his tool with great satisfaction to himself and his partners, if with little effect in the procreative senseand never had he been refused. In fact, it was rare indeed that he needed to ask. The girls and women had always come after him. Nor did he refuse anyyoung and old, pretty and uglySimon gave them the best his magnificent body could produce. But he did not offer, did not even think or speak of loveand he warned all his lovers that he would be inconstant.
The permanence of marriage held no appeal for Simon. His need for gentle warmth, for steadfast, unwavering affection was well supplied by his parents, his half-sister and half-brother, and their spouses. The unquestioning adoration of children, the need for heirs to the land that would be his when his father died,

 
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