Windsor Castle July 1172 Marie Helene helped me dress for dinner in the hall. I did not speak, but she saw my face, and the pain there. She was kind enough to say nothing, but laced my gown in silence. The door was always open, but this day Bijou did not try to flee as she had always done before. Her desire to explore the smells of Henry’s castle was overwhelmed by the need to stay by me. She sat on her cushion and stared up at me as I dressed. She seemed to sense my sorrow, as dogs and children can. Bijou came to me, and licked my hand, not for her comfort, but for mine. I wore cloth of gold, heavily embroidered, the most elaborate dress I had been given since being brought out of the nunnery. The gown had been very fine fresh from the seamstress’ hand, but Marie Helene had a talent with a needle. She had added to the sleeves in gold thread an embroidered crest, twining my father’s fleur-de-lys with the lion of Richard’s house. I looked down at those sleeves that had given me so much pleasure. I thought to wear a different dress, but I remembered Eleanor’s eyes, and how she challenged me to be the woman she had raised me to be. I swallowed my pride, and left the gown on. I remembered how proud I had been of that gown when Marie Helene first showed it to me, and how I had looked forward to wearing it. Now that joy was ashes in my mouth. Marie Helene placed the filet Eleanor had given me over my hair. Tonight my veil was a light gold. The fleurs-de-lys of my childhood blessed my temple where they lay on my brow, and gleamed on my finger where Eleanor’s ring winked at me in the firelight. I raised my hand and crossed myself, though I had not been at prayer. Marie Helene repeated my gesture before she followed me from the room, down into Eleanor’s hall. I did not see Richard when I came into the great hall, though I looked for him. Eleanor caught my eye and smiled, gesturing that I was to join her at the high table. If she saw the embroidery on my sleeve, she did not speak of it. “Alais, what a pretty gown. You will outshine us all.?? She met my eyes as if our earlier conversation had never happened, as if I had not stormed out of her rooms without her leave less than two hours before. Instead of stoking the fire of my anger, her calm regard gave me strength. As always, the presence of Eleanor reminded me of who I was. My courtier’s tongue loosened as it rarely did, and I spoke without thinking. “That would be impossible, Your Majesty, as long as you are in the room.” I coupled those words with a pretty curtsy. Eleanor laughed and clapped, admiration in her eyes. No doubt she thought I had given in to her point of view, that I would lie back and let Richard take any lover he pleased. I, of course, knew otherwise. “Well said, Princess, well said. Come and sit by me, and tell me more of my beauty.” I sat beside her at once, and Marie Helene took a chair farther down the table, her worried gaze never leaving my face. I turned from her to the queen, wondering what I might say. I had never before spoken lies to Eleanor. In the end, I found that I could not. Between us, there had always been truth. “My father loved you.” I met the queen’s eyes to show her I was no coward. She faced my gaze, all traces of her smile gone. Eleanor watched me as I had once seen a man eye another over a shield at a tournament, gauging his opponent’s strengths, and where he might strike first. It was the first time she looked at me that way, her calculation naked and open before me. I did not flinch from her, as a lesser woman might have done. However foolhardy my words had been, I meant what I said. “Your father spoke of me to you, did he? Did he tell you of my fine eyes?” “No, Your Grace. He never spoke of you. He rarely speaks at all, as you know. But once, someone else said your name, and his eyes filled with tears.” Eleanor scoffed, waving one hand. Her footman moved to fill the queen’s glass, and barely dodged out of the way in time to avoid having her select wine spilled across the table. “They were tears of horror, I assure you. Louis bears no love for me, nor I for him.” “I know you don’t love him,” I said. She stared at me, her gaze sharp pointed knives, though she smiled. “And how do you know this? Do you claim to know the secrets of the hearts of all women, or only mine?” “I do not presume to speak of secrets, Majesty. I know none. But if you had loved him, whatever came, you would never have left him.” Eleanor pushed herself back against the cushions of her chair, pinned by my words as I uttered them. “I have seen it with my own eyes, Majesty, and I do not lie. All men love you. They do not stop loving you, when you are gone.” I looked up the table, to where Henry sat eating venison, his eyes on his master of the horse, who sat beside him. “The king loves you this way,” I said, “though I think he does not know it.” “Alais,” she said, her voice low, her tone so quiet that I had to lean close to hear her. “I think you are right.” She looked down the table. Henry did not feel her gaze, but kept speaking, uninterrupted, as his master of the horse nodded, certain to do as he was bidden. “But since Henry does not know of it, his love does me little good.” Eleanor did not look at me again, nor at Henry, but sat and watched as each course came, taking nothing, smiling graciously at the server who brought each dish to her trencher, though she did not eat. I thought that the king would notice her lack of appetite, and remark upon it, but he never looked at her. It was as if, withdrawn behind a mask of stone, she had become a ghost in her own hall. For without her vibrant laughter and ready wit to draw them, the courtiers all around us turned away from her, and kept their eyes only on the king. When the meal ended, the musicians came down from their gallery to play the first dance. Richard’s lover, Margaret, came to stand among the dancers as they gathered. I watched as all the court greeted her warmly, as Richard’s friends and allies fawned over her. I saw clearly that all the court knew of her, and of who she was to Richard. All the court had known of Richard’s lover, but me. The courtiers rose and the king gestured with a smile for the music to start. Just then, with his men flanking him, Richard strode into the hall. My heart twisted at the sight of him. He stood, tall and fair, his red hair a lion’s mane around his shoulders, his eyes fixed on Henry. I stared at him, hoping that he might glance at me, but he had eyes only for the king. “My lord.” Richard’s voice was flat, but it carried well over the great hall. The musicians had sounded the first note, but at the word of their prince, the music died away. Richard bowed once, not low, and then raised his eyes to Henry on his dais. Henry’s face hardened as he looked at his son. In spite of my fury at Richard, and the sick nausea that came upon me as I looked at him, I felt my breath catch in my throat. “‘Your Majesty’ is the proper greeting to use when addressing your king.”
Richard’s face was like stone, and I felt his anger rising off him in waves. I saw his temper revealed to me for the first time. There were layers and layers to this man who would be my husband; it seemed that day they were to be laid out before me, one by one, that I might see them all, and know the man I was getting. “Your Majesty,” Richard said, his voice harder still. Henry’s eyes narrowed; I saw the beginnings of the legendary Plantagenet temper in his face. All the court held their breath as they looked at father and son, facing each other in the great hall as if they both wished for a weapon. “It is also the custom to kneel before your king, especially when you come late to the king’s feast, so late that you miss the meat, and break the mirth with your arrival.” Richard did not apologize, but stood his ground. “Kneel,” Henry said. I saw Richard flinch, and I began to be afraid for him. In spite of my anger at Richard, a cooler part of my brain began to speak to me, to warn me that Henry was in earnest, and that his rage was stronger than Richard’s, and farther reaching. I remembered the fate of Thomas Becket, and I started to pray. I prayed to the Holy Mother that Richard’............