Harry starts. "Shall I pawn my honor in hopes of his good rule?"

Hal laughs softly. "Ah, gallant Hotspur, how my father wished you had been his son, to always be nothing but what you are. Give ear to me: my wayward years were not so idly passed as you think. I am still a king son -- even such a king as you thought my father. It does not mean nothing. Come to the coronation and affirm my transformation all the more."

Harry shifts on his feet. "The other pardons first. I'd see them in writing, with your seal, before we meet tomorrow."

"Good cousin, it is done." Hal turns to Kate. "Lady Percy, I look to you for the evening's revels. How shall we gather and when?"

(Harry is also looking to Kate, with we'll discuss this later radiating off every foot of him.)