She was suddenly acutely aware of falling very short of Court decorum. Hair tangled from running, purple dress crumpled by the crowd, cheeks flushed with bewilderment. Even her mind was in disarray.
But none of this was fair. She’d neither seen nor heard any formal announcement of his arrival. Literally, she’d been in the dark.
As if conjured by its name, darkness swirled around her chaotic thoughts. Was she about to faint?
No!
She raised her chin. Damn the dark and—if she could—damn the King, too, for making her feel inadequate. After all, it was his stupid game she’d been playing. What did he expect? And whoever had heard of a king taking so long to gaze upon someone’s appearance?
But he wasn’t looking at her appearance. He hadn’t noticed the crumpled silk or the tendrils of hair that strayed out behind the silver circlet around her head. The King hadn’t noticed her physical appearance. The King seemed to be assessing her.
Shewasgoing to faint.
‘Who are you?’ King Edward’s deep voice echoed in the unnaturally quiet room.
She desperately wished her mouth wasn’t so dry. ‘Alice of Fenton, sire.’
‘From Swaffham?’
‘Yes, Your Majesty.’
He chuckled. ‘Well, it seems you have won a prize.’
Alice didn’t know how to answer. Despite the King’s laughter his brow remained furrowed, and it gave him a troubled look.
She chastised herself. Perhaps he could not rid himself of worry when there were such heavy matters to deal with in the north. But with such concerns, why was he bothering with a courtly game?
His chamberlain was suddenly on her right. In his hands was an elaborate ivory hunting horn. Even in the great glitter of Court the horn glimmered bright, its three bands of carved silver sparkling like stars. If this was her prize for such sport, every extravagance her sister had told her about Court was true.
She bowed her head. ‘Thank you, Your Majesty.’
He inclined his head, but looked beyond her shoulder. She would have looked, too, but the chamberlain was handing her the horn. His manner was overtly stiff, his arms barely extended. It forced her to bend low and forward to retrieve it, or look as if she was refusing the prize.
She was practically wrapped around him when she heard his message, whispered so softly only she could hear.
‘You will go to the antechamber when the third song starts.’
Startled at the words, she didn’t react as the chamberlain grabbed the seal, shoved the horn into her hand and disappeared.
When she looked up from the horn the King was gone. She had not acknowledged akingleaving the throne. What was wrong with her?
Courtiers swarmed around her, but her ears and eyes were numb to their excited chatter.
She heard music faintly in the background. Had she missed a song?
No, the chamberlain had just left, and the people around her were moving into a dance. It was the first song.
At the third song the King commanded a private meeting with her. Although the chamberlain had not said so, she knew this was not something to be repeated. Not that she would tell any of the people crowding around her to admire the horn. They were strangers all, and she had never felt that fact more than at this moment.
She tried to accept their congratulations, but mostly she waited for their interest to wane. It did so in very little time.
Soon she was left alone, while people danced, gossiped and flirted. She had never understood until now what it meant when it was said that people twittered. She watched people laugh too gaily and talk too loudly. If they would simply be quiet she could concentrate.
Two, she counted. She knew this song.
There wasn’t much time before she must reach the antechamber. Certainly not enough to collect her thoughts, which were now more crumpled than her dress. She didn’t know why she was being summoned, or why she had felt the King was measuring her.
Maybe by her winning she had caught his eye. The Queen had been dead for years and he had yet to remarry. Was that why he had been assessing her? Did he wonder if she’d make a suitable mistress? Her heart lurched. It was an honour, but one that she had never hoped for; she certainly hadn’t wanted to win the game that much.
