Marion smiled. She knew very little about this English queen, but somehow, she already liked her. With only two years between them in age, they would certainly have more in common than she with her husband, though Marion would never speak those words out loud.
“And secondly, I wish you to speak freely with me. No one here does. At home, I had my ladies with whom I could converse. Here I have no one.”
“You have someone now, my lady. I am grateful for the company for all I hear is how quickly I am to be married off and of my younger sister’s interest in being invited to social events such as these.”
“I am envious that you were part of the conversation of your impending nuptials. I was not so fortunate,” she said in a low voice so only Marion could hear.
Marion searched the queen’s expression. Sadness hid behind her pale blue eyes.
“I am sure you will find happiness, my lady.”
As if the words pulled the queen from a distant thought, she shook her head and smiled. “I am very blessed in this life and grateful for all I have. And right now, that includes a new friend for whom I have completely forgotten my manners.” She turned to the same servant who had acquired Marion’s chair. “Do fetch us some libation.”
Moments later, goblets of a golden liquid were handed to the queen and Marion; the king waved away the offering. Marion sipped and refrained from gulping the sweet mead as soon as she tasted the delightful drink. While her family regularly included ale and mead in their meals, none she’d ever had was quite like this.
“Do you like it?” the queen asked.
“Aye, my lady, very much so. ’Tis not like any I’ve had.”
“I have had it made special. They brew it for less time and so it is still sweet, but not as potent.”
“’Tis delightful.”
“So, tell me, Lady Marion,” the queen said with a grin, “have any of the contestants caught your eye? If you were to be married off today and had a say, with whom would you prefer?”
Marion swallowed hard. She had not expected such a bold question. In fact, there was someone who’d drawn her notice, but she was not about to share that with anyone.
“Not yet, my lady.”
The queen’s eyes narrowed. “Very well, keep your secret if you wish,” she said with a smile. “But I will suss it out.”
Marion offered a smile in return and a promise to herself she would not allow her gaze to fall too long on any one person, though she was keenly aware at all times where the black rider was positioned.
The jousting matches concluded not long after, thankfully, and the queen suggested they enjoy a small repast in the great hall and then a tour of the menagerie.
The great hall at Linlithgow Palace was longer than it was wide,and Marion was certain could contain a thousand people. At the head of the hall was a long table on a raised platform decorated with dozens of white roses accentuated with many natural wildflowers and thistles, creating an almost ethereal homage to the joining of the Scottish king and English queen. Everywhere Marion looked, there was some reference to the union.
The queen took her hand and urged her forward. “Come, Lady Marion, you will sit beside me.”
Marion had no choice but to follow, though she was a little uncomfortable being seated in front of everyone. Thankfully, her parents followed and took their seats at the top of the first of two long benches that sat perpendicular to the king’s table. She looked around as much as she could in a polite way so as not to appear like a gawking schoolgirl. Once the king and queen took their seats, the crowd quickly followed and servants came from what seemed like the stone walls themselves with platters of roasted boar, meat pies, tall cakes in the shape of various birds Marion had never seen before, along with breads and cheeses and so many kinds of fruit. There was likely enough food to feed all of Scotland and the queen had referenced this as a small repast. Marion could not imagine what the evening meal would look like.
“Please enjoy your meal, Lady Marion. It will be many hours before the evening feast.”
Marion didn’t need to be told twice. As soon as the king filled the queen’s trencher with his selected cuts of the roasted boar, Marion chose hers and selected a little of as much as she could reach around her. ’Twas more than she would normally eat, but she was curious to try the food and everyone around her had done the same. Her mouth watered from the first taste of the boar to the delicious cheese and of course a goblet of the never-ending flow of amber mead. She’d never been permitted more than one goblet, but if the queen was truthful in it not being potent, she allowed she could imbibe just a little on this occasion.
Her parents appeared to have their attention focused on her as much as politely possible while in the company of other lords and ladies with whom they were expected to converse. Between bites of food and answering the queen’s questions about Marion’s family, particularly her sisters, Marion glanced around the hall from time to time, but found no trace of the black rider. She also acknowledged to herself that he could be wearing anything underneath the black armor and so he could be sitting right in front of her, and she would not know him. Somehow, though, she convinced herself she would know him anywhere.
As soon as the thought struck, her belly fluttered. She glanced again at those sitting at the front of the tables. Her breath released when she spied only those who resembled her own parents, all thick around the middle with graying hair. No black riders there.
“Are you looking for someone?” the queen asked with a grin that was beyond her young years.
“Nay, my lady, I was merely ensuring my parents fared well.”
“What are you asking, Lady Marion?” the king asked his wife.
It appeared both of them enjoyed this sort of game. She prayed the queen would not allow him to engage with her on this subject as well, lest she truly have no hope of leaving Linlithgow this evening unencumbered with a betrothal.
“I am asking if she is enjoying her repast, Your Majesty,” she said and squeezed Marion’s arm in a way the king could not see.
