The Queen from Provence by Jean Plaidy

Court and she knew that these girls wished to take service in her household. It was the custom when a royal bride came from a foreign country to send back those attendants whom she had brought with her and to select others from her new country, to make the newcomer realise that she now belonged to her new land.
    Every Princess protested at this and of course she would. How could she be expected to say good-bye to old friends and welcome strangers? But it was the custom, and she would be expected to submit to it.
    It would be a test. If she succeeded she would know that there would be no difficulty. It would be an indication of whether she was as skilled as she believed herself to be.
    They were at last alone and in their chamber.
    He turned to her and taking her hands drew her towards him.
    ‘Well, little bride,’ he said, ‘what think you of your King and his country?’
    ‘I think I am the luckiest Princess in the world.’
    ‘Then I am happy.’
    ‘I have a King,’ she said, ‘who shows his love for me by his indulgence. What more could I ask than that?’
    ‘You are right, my little love. There is nothing I would not give you.’
    Now was the moment. Her heart was beating fast. Dare she? Was it too soon? Perhaps she should have asked Uncle William first.
    ‘You must not make rash promises, Henry, which you might not be able to keep.’
    ‘I … not be able to keep my promises! Why, my dearest, have you forgotten that I am the King?’
    She understood him. He was very anxious that everyone should remember that. He was one to assert his royalty which must mean that within him he sensed some weakness. Henry was no fool. He was clever, but sometimes such cleverness as his was a hindrance rather than a help. In his heart he would know of his inadequacies and would do his best to hide them or deceive people into believing they did not exist. Hence his desire that all should recognise his royalty; hence his sudden quick temper when he thought himself slighted, his affability when he thought he needed a man’s friendship.
    ‘No, I do not forget,’ she answered. ‘But your barons are formidable men.’
    ‘Did you think so?’
    ‘Yes, I did.’
    ‘Were any disrespectful to you?’
    ‘None. They accept me as their Queen, I know well. I shall be happy here when I am used to it. I am thankful that I have some friends about me.’
    ‘They will soon be longing for the blue skies of Provence.’
    ‘They would never wish to leave me … never .’
    ‘My dearest!’
    She put her arms about his neck. ‘Henry, will you do one thing for me?’
    ‘Anything … but do not make it little.’
    ‘Perhaps it is not little. My women are a little afraid, Henry. They have heard rumours.’
    ‘Rumours? What rumours?’
    ‘That they may be sent away.’
    ‘Oh … in due course. When they go you shall select those you would like to replace them.’
    ‘Yes … that is what they feared. I reassured them, Henry. I told them that you were so good and kind to me, and that was why I loved you so dearly. I said you would never make me unhappy by sending them away.’
    Silence. Her head against his chest so that she could not see his face. She waited with trepidation. This was more than sending away a few attendants.
    At last he spoke, stroking her hair as he did so.
    ‘My dearest, it is the custom you know. The people do not like foreigners at Court. Oh, I know they are not foreigners to us, but they consider them so.’
    ‘You mean … you would send them away!’
    She broke free from his arms and sat down on the bed, and covered her face with her hands.
    He was beside her, his arm about her.
    ‘Eleanor, understand this …’
    ‘No,’ she said. ‘There is no need to say more. I was wrong. It is not as I thought. I must tell them that I was mistaken …’
    ‘Mistaken? What do you mean?’
    ‘I told them that I could never be really happy if they went and that when I told you, you would let them stay.’
    ‘Oh, my dearest