Windsor Castle May 1172 I caught Alais alone with her waiting woman on her way to the priest. I considered it my duty to do all I could to discourage her predilection for constant praying, and for confessing imagined sins. I called her into my solar as she passed by, and she could do naught but heed me. From the guilty look on her face, I could see that she was glad to have some excuse to avoid the dark cavern of the chapel. She no doubt longed for the sunlit expanse of my solar, as I did whenever I was indoors. When she stepped inside, her waiting woman dismissed, I saw the little dog clutched under her cloak. “What have we here, Alais? A puppy from the stable?” “No, Your Majesty. She is my puppy. The king gave her to me.” “Did he indeed?” I took this in, thinking of Henry’s face the night before as he watched her leave the hall. He had joked with me about her while dancing last night. But he had seen her since, and had planned the meeting with no assistance from me. “The king just happened to have an expensive lapdog about his person?” I saw the guilt on her face for what it was: Alais knew as well as I did that such gifts were not common, nor warranted, to the betrothed of the king’s son. “Well, let her down, Alais. There’s no need for you to clutch her close. There’s nothing here that will harm her.” “No, Your Majesty, I fear she will harm something of yours.” I laughed, and Alais smiled for the first time since I had called her to me, her look of guilt fading a little, but only a little. I pressed on, curious to see what else might lie behind her unease. It was not like her to hide things from me. Her priest was in my pay, and from what he told me, she confessed only the usual things a young girl might: speaking harshly to a servant, moments of imagined disobedience, or occasional impure thoughts. I wondered now if there was something else, something her priest had not told me. I would have to increase his fee. “There is nothing here she can damage, I think. The tapestries are off the floor for the summer, so let her go.” The little dog yipped in oy at her freedom. As all dogs and children did, she ran straight to me. “There now, little one. What is your name?” “Bijou,” Alais said. “What a lovely name for a lovely creature.” I caressed the puppy’s ears. Satisfied with that tribute, she raced off to smell the myriad joys of my solar. As I watched, the little dog started chewing on one of my women’s discarded embroidery frames. Alais at once set it out of her reach, and gave her something else to chew on. I saw that it was a bit of leather from one of Henry’s gloves. It must have been in the box with the dog when he gave it to her. Alais sat beside me when I bade her, and poured us both a cup of watered wine. We drank in silence, watching Bijou worry the bit of leather as if it were a rabbit she had by the throat. This little dog shared more traits with Henry than just the remnants of his glove. My daughter watched the dog, unbridled joy on her face. I rarely saw her face so open, even when we were alone. I was reminded of the fact that she was still almost a child. So I reined my jealousy in, and kept my voice even. “Alais, you know, of course, that Bijou was meant to be the gift for another.” She looked at me, a little of her joy dimmed, but I had to remind her of the realities at court. Henry was what he was. She could not give in to fantasy and foolishness where the king was concerned. “Even kings do not keep expensive lapdogs in their saddlebags,” I said. “Your Bijou was intended for his newest mistress, a girl just come to court from the country, some chit he picked up in Anjou.” I wondered what the illustrious Rosamund thought of Henry’s newest doxy. I suppressed a smile. I might even ask my spies to look into it, simply to amuse me. Alais turned pale as she took in this unwelcome news. She looked at her little dog, and I wondered for a moment if she might march out then and there, and cast Henry’s gift back in his face. But Bijou noticed her mistress looking at her, and bounded over, scrambling against Alais’ legs, threatening to snag the good silk of Alais’ silver gown. Alais raised the puppy into her lap, and kissed her, and caressed her head. If tears came to her eyes, she did not shed them. After a moment, Alais turned to me. “I did not know that.” “I thought you did not.” I reached out and took Alais’ hand. It lay still and cold in mine, distant, as if she were far from me. I squeezed it, and she grasped my hand in return, her palm warming at once over mine. “You must not trouble yourself,” I said. “Henry is given to extravagant gestures. I simply did not want you to read more into it than there was.” Alais met my eyes. I saw at once that she fancied Henry, perhaps because he was king, perhaps because she missed her own father and longed for the attentions of a man, though Richard had given her plenty of that when he was at court. Or perhaps it was a girlish crush, as I once had on a traveling minstrel when I was twelve. Alais had never had the time or opportunity for such a thing, locked away in her nunnery Whatever her feelings were, she would follow my guidance in this as all else. I would watch over her fascination with the king, to make sure it did not become overblown, and confuse her wits. We had come too far with her marriage to my son to turn back now over some benighted folly. Alais sang for me at my request, so that I could watch her face without encumbrances, so that I could think. She sang a sweet song of spring, of a girl whose love has gone away. I know she thought of Richard as she sang it, for her face took on a softer look, the kind of look she got when caressing Bijou. I saw then that I could cast the die either way. If Henry continued to support the alliance with France, and allow Richard and Alais to marry, I would gain power in the Aquitaine and the Vexin both. But if Henry turned his eye on Alais, with a covetousness I knew he possessed, I could secure Richard against his father for all time. If such a thing was to happen, there was nothing I could not persuade Richard to do. My mother’s instincts rebelled in horror at this idea. But if I ever thought that Richard looked to attach himself to Alais above all others, even me, then it was an option I would have to consider, and carefully. Alais fell silent, her song finished. There was a long moment of quiet, when she looked at me. I feared that she read my eyes, and the evil thoughts that lurked behind them. I loved this girl, more than my own daughters, more than anyone but my son. But I knew that if need be, I would betray her. I had been a politician longer than I had loved anyone. Self-knowledge was a hard thing, but I could bear it. Self-knowledge and the strength to bear it had made me queen, not once, but twice. I reached for her and drew her to me. Alais set her do............