“My lord, I was sent to inform you that your rooms are ready, if you wish to change.”
“Thank you, Hessler.”
This, then, was Prince Bowen’s valet, Isla’s future husband. I could see how she would have been dazzled by him, with his clear blue eyes and tall, elegant bearing. Were it not for his servant’s livery, I would have mistaken him for a gentleman. His eyes searched the room quickly, then lighted upon Isla, who smiled shyly but with evident pleasure.
Prince Bowen stood from his chair and wagged a finger in my direction. “Enough gawking, miss, my man is already spoken for.” I blushed, mortified at being singled out, and Prince Bowen’s eyes flashed with amusement.
Ducking his head toward Queen Lenore, he said, “I must make myself presentable before Ranolf returns.”
“Until supper, then,” she said, rising to see him off. “Isla, you may take your leave as well. I am sure you and your intended have much to discuss.”
After Prince Bowen strode off, followed by Hessler and Isla, the queen collapsed into her chair, spent of her charm.
“Ladies, you may see to yourselves,” she said. “We must welcome our guest and his men with suitable ceremony tonight.”
The ladies-in-waiting chattered brightly as they left the room, relishing the opportunity to preen before a new group of potential admirers. The queen and I remained alone. She had not moved.
“My lady?” I asked cautiously.
“It has always been this way between us.” She sighed. “Bowen flirts and flatters, yet does everything in his power to lessen my influence with the king.”
“Shall I leave you to rest?”
“Yes. Please tell Lady Wintermale that I am not to be disturbed for the next hour. After that you may help me prepare for this evening.”
“Yes, madam.” I placed the glasses on the tray and picked it up. As I walked toward the door, she called out my name, and I paused.
“How did the prince strike you? Speak plainly.”
Taken aback by her familiarity, I tried to order my thoughts. My immediate reaction was to tell her that Prince Bowen made my skin crawl. But he was the king’s brother. I had to consider my words carefully.
“He appears very confident. A man accustomed to having all eyes upon him.”
“So he is,” said the queen. “Yet he remains a younger brother without a title, and these are treacherous times.”
I was not sure how to respond. Isla and the queen had an easy rapport, but they had grown up together. How could I presume to offer advice to a noblewoman? I simply nodded, my face impassive.
“With no heir, the king and I find ourselves in a precarious position,” she continued. “Bowen is next in the line of succession, and he is young and vigorous. He may covet the title before we are ready to release it.”
My heart sank at the thought of arrogant Prince Bowen ruling over us. But he was the rightful heir.
“Elise, will you inform Mrs. Tewkes that my digestion is unsettled? I would like to be served plain chicken and bread this evening.” She looked so distressed that I wished I could embrace her, the way my mother had comforted me when I was a child. Of course, such an intimate gesture was unimaginable. Queen Lenore was a porcelain figure, to be set on display and admired from afar. She would shatter if I touched her.
She looked up at me with worried, exhausted eyes. “Do not be fooled by the fine manners. At court, enemies hide in plain sight.”
Mrs. Tewkes and the kitchen staff prepared a splendid banquet to celebrate Prince Bowen’s return. I peeked into the Great Hall as the festivities began and was awed by the opulence before me: silver platters piled high with roast quail, cured ham, and other delicacies; cut-glass goblets catching and reflecting the candlelight; the sparkle of gemstones adorning the ladies’ wrists and headdresses. Prince Bowen was huddled with a group of knights, their raucous laughter provoking a frown of disapproval from his aunt Millicent.
“Thank you, Hessler.”
This, then, was Prince Bowen’s valet, Isla’s future husband. I could see how she would have been dazzled by him, with his clear blue eyes and tall, elegant bearing. Were it not for his servant’s livery, I would have mistaken him for a gentleman. His eyes searched the room quickly, then lighted upon Isla, who smiled shyly but with evident pleasure.
Prince Bowen stood from his chair and wagged a finger in my direction. “Enough gawking, miss, my man is already spoken for.” I blushed, mortified at being singled out, and Prince Bowen’s eyes flashed with amusement.
Ducking his head toward Queen Lenore, he said, “I must make myself presentable before Ranolf returns.”
“Until supper, then,” she said, rising to see him off. “Isla, you may take your leave as well. I am sure you and your intended have much to discuss.”
After Prince Bowen strode off, followed by Hessler and Isla, the queen collapsed into her chair, spent of her charm.
“Ladies, you may see to yourselves,” she said. “We must welcome our guest and his men with suitable ceremony tonight.”
The ladies-in-waiting chattered brightly as they left the room, relishing the opportunity to preen before a new group of potential admirers. The queen and I remained alone. She had not moved.
“My lady?” I asked cautiously.
“It has always been this way between us.” She sighed. “Bowen flirts and flatters, yet does everything in his power to lessen my influence with the king.”
“Shall I leave you to rest?”
“Yes. Please tell Lady Wintermale that I am not to be disturbed for the next hour. After that you may help me prepare for this evening.”
“Yes, madam.” I placed the glasses on the tray and picked it up. As I walked toward the door, she called out my name, and I paused.
“How did the prince strike you? Speak plainly.”
Taken aback by her familiarity, I tried to order my thoughts. My immediate reaction was to tell her that Prince Bowen made my skin crawl. But he was the king’s brother. I had to consider my words carefully.
“He appears very confident. A man accustomed to having all eyes upon him.”
“So he is,” said the queen. “Yet he remains a younger brother without a title, and these are treacherous times.”
I was not sure how to respond. Isla and the queen had an easy rapport, but they had grown up together. How could I presume to offer advice to a noblewoman? I simply nodded, my face impassive.
“With no heir, the king and I find ourselves in a precarious position,” she continued. “Bowen is next in the line of succession, and he is young and vigorous. He may covet the title before we are ready to release it.”
My heart sank at the thought of arrogant Prince Bowen ruling over us. But he was the rightful heir.
“Elise, will you inform Mrs. Tewkes that my digestion is unsettled? I would like to be served plain chicken and bread this evening.” She looked so distressed that I wished I could embrace her, the way my mother had comforted me when I was a child. Of course, such an intimate gesture was unimaginable. Queen Lenore was a porcelain figure, to be set on display and admired from afar. She would shatter if I touched her.
She looked up at me with worried, exhausted eyes. “Do not be fooled by the fine manners. At court, enemies hide in plain sight.”
Mrs. Tewkes and the kitchen staff prepared a splendid banquet to celebrate Prince Bowen’s return. I peeked into the Great Hall as the festivities began and was awed by the opulence before me: silver platters piled high with roast quail, cured ham, and other delicacies; cut-glass goblets catching and reflecting the candlelight; the sparkle of gemstones adorning the ladies’ wrists and headdresses. Prince Bowen was huddled with a group of knights, their raucous laughter provoking a frown of disapproval from his aunt Millicent.
Similar Books
