The Rose of Provence by Susanna Lehner Page A

grayish-blue eyes.
    “ Do you think I’m blind?” hissed Catherine when the prince sat
down beside her. “You are coming from one of your whores again, and
I can guess from which one.”
    “ You are not in the position to haul me up for anything,”
whispered Henri. “Or shall I call you on account for when you will
bear me a boy? Or at least a girl? Because we all know that it’s
not my fault.”
    The otherwise average features of the woman became even
paler. She pressed her narrow lips and wrapped up in headstrong
silence. She just fumbled the honey glazed chicken on her plate,
and , she did not speak to her husband the rest of the evening. The
prince did not mind it anyway when he caught sight of the flaming
red-haired beauty sitting at the other end of table. Her snow-white
skin and queenly posture suggested that she may be the offspring of
an ancient, noble family. Her emerald-green eyes scattered sparks
as the light of the flaming torches reflected in them. Her
moss-colored dress stitched with golden thread emphasized the
special tone of her eyes, and her smile lit up the great hall. The
prince was so enchanted by the magical sight that he did not notice
the jealous look setting on him from the other direction. Diane,
with infallible instinct, realized the danger at the moment when
the girl caught the heir’s eyes.
    “ Who is that appetizing cattle?” Henri leaned to Earl Marais
sitting on his left side, and waved his head towards the red-haired
creature. “I’ve never seen her here.”
    “ Don’t you know? But she is your wife’s chaperon,” the Earl
laughed conspiratorially. “She is called Amrita, the daughter of
the late Earl du Bois. A flower from Provence, she has just
recently arrived at the court from Arles.”
    “ Well, I think I must get to know her better,” murmured the
prince excitedly.
    “ Beware! The bloodhound keeps her eyes on you!”
    “ Come on, Catherine is licking her wounds now,” Henri glanced
towards his wife. “If she starts to bother me with anything, it’s
enough to mention the descendant issue, and I can silence her
immediately.”
    “ I wasn't talking about her, but the other one,” Marais raised
his eyebrow meaningfully.
    At that moment, the prince, himself felt the icy look
penetrating him. He suddenly looked at Diane, as if he was caught
at fault, and the woman unflinchingly stood his glance. She knew
that she had to get rid of the alabaster skinned newcomer as soon
as possible.
    Amrita pretended that she did not catch sight of the
flattering attention of the crown prince, but she was very well
aware that Henri Valois, who is rumored to be an incorrigible lady
killer, put her onto his fictional waiting list, at a very
distinguished position. She felt increasingly embarrassed that the
prince was overtly gazing at her, and her refined senses warned her
that this may offend not only the princess’ self-esteem. It
couldn’t fail to be seen that the heir’s first lover would gladly
drown her in a teaspoon of water. She tried to blunt the strength
of the dark thoughts coming from Diane, and she was surprised how
great the strength was hiding in the fragile female body. An hour
later, she felt totally exhausted, so she asked for permission from
her mistress to leave.
    Near the assembly hall, wine flushed people were wobbling
everywhere in the corridors; others were sitting in armchairs
covered with light blue silk, and few people were leaning against
the tapestried wall under the portrait of some late monarch. A few
greedy, uninhibited hands snatched at her, so she accelerated her
steps. When the music could hardly be heard, and the befuddled
bluster had died away in the shaggy carpets of the long corridors,
she breathed a sigh of relief. It was not the first time that she
was living in a royal court, but she still had not got used to the
everlasting power and love intrigues, the baffling thoughts of the
voluptuous ladies and gentlemen, and the desires of real