Immediately the little girl stepped into the room. “My name is Fiona,” she told Alix. “What’s your name? My da said you were found on the moor. Why were you there? Were you lost?”
“My name is Alix, and aye, I suppose I was lost,” she told Fiona. The child was very pretty with her father’s black hair and inquisitive blue eyes. The blue eyes were not the laird’s. “How old are you, Mistress Fiona?” she asked the little girl.
“I will be six come the fifth day of December,” Fiona answered Alix. “How old are you, Mistress Alix?”
“I’m sixteen this August past,” Alix answered her.
“Sixteen is old,” Fiona observed, “but twenty is very old, I think.”
Alix laughed aloud. “I suppose when you are to be six on the fifth day of December,” she said, “sixteen does seem old, and twenty older yet.”
“Do you know any stories?” Fiona asked.
“I know lots of stories,” Alix replied.
Fiona trotted around the door, and crossing the room, climbed up into the bed with Alix. “Tell me a story,” she said.
“Shall I tell you about a prince?” Alix inquired.
“Oh yes! I should like a story about a prince!” Fiona exclaimed, snuggling next to Alix, her small dark head on the older girl’s shoulder.
“Once upon a time,” Alix began, “there was a prince named Henry. He was only a baby when his father the king died and the prince had to become king of his land. They unofficially crowned him with one of his queenly mother’s gold bracelets, for being a baby his little head was very small. He was the youngest king ever crowned, and presided over his lords sitting in his mother’s lap. One month before his eighth birthday he was officially crowned king of England. And two years later he was crowned king of France.”
“He was king of two lands?” Fiona asked, her tone disbelieving.
“For a time, yes, he was. He gained France through his mama,” Alix said.
“Who was she?” Fiona wanted to know.
“A beautiful French princess named Katherine,” Alix answered her.
“Are you English?” Fiona said.
“I was born in England, aye, but my parents came from Anjou.”
“What happened to the prince who became king?” Fiona inquired.
“He married a French noblewoman. Her name was Margaret,” Alix said.
“Did they love each other?” Fiona wondered. “My papa loved my mama. My mama is dead, you know.”
“Kings cannot always marry for love,” Alix explained. “But to answer your question, King Henry did grow to love his queen. And she came to love him. A prince was born to them. His name is Edward, and he is just eight years old.”
“Will he be king one day?” Fiona wondered.
“I do not think so,” Alix responded.
“Why not? Doesn’t he want to be king?”
“Aye, he wants to be king, but another king overthrew his father. Now that man rules in England. It is unlikely that Edward Plantagenet will ever rule,” Alix said. “Poor King Henry was ill, and his enemies took advantage of him to steal his throne.”
“What happened to King Henry? Did they kill him?” Her blue eyes were curious.
“They tried, but he fled with the queen and their son,” Alix replied.
“Where did they go to hide?” the little girl wanted to know.
“Right here in Scotland!”
