“My lady, which of these frocks will you wear for today?” said Catherine, bringing in her mistress’ chamber the frocks that have been ordered to be altered by the king’s seamstress.
Hélène watched her ladies go to her with their hands carrying her dark coloured frocks while Anne fixed and combed her hair. The weather was gloomy that morning that it seemed the skies were sympathizing with the order of the day, the clouds were tinted with gray and the chilly wind that blew from the North Sea did not help raise their spirits in the last days of September. Her ladies were busy preparing her clothing articles for her attendance in Princess Beatrice’s funeral.
“Will you pick one for me, my dear?” she said, motioning towards her chamber fellow Anne. She was not in her usual happy demeanor, and although the occasion called for mourning, her ladies were quite puzzled with her low spirits.
Following her unusual behavior, Sarah Tewkes, her little paternal cousin about the age of the Princess Royal, presented to her a box of jewels.
“A gift from His Majesty, my lady.” said Sarah, opening the box containing the glittering silver chain necklace with which hanged a big, blue sapphire the shape of a square cut in a meshwork of lattice that it shined however it was held, even though it was not particularly bright that morning. Accompanying it is pair of dangle earrings of the same cut of sapphires. “You might like to wear it together with your frock from Madame Boulanger’s.”
She was a little pleased with the gift, but then she was not able to share Sarah’s excitement with the king’s present for her.
“Tell His Majesty that he sent me a really lovely treasure.” she instructed Sarah, looking at her in her tired and insipid eyes, “But I will not wear it today. Take it to my chest for safe-keeping.”
Sarah made a little frown and went about to accomplish her mistress’ order. As she reached the door that lead people to the archery grounds, Sarah saw her cousin the Earl Herling fast approaching upon opening the entrance.
“Is Hélène ready now?” he asked, his heart still racing from the long dash he made from the King’s apartments towards Hélène’s.
“No, she’s still in her smock, fiddling about her hood and powder. Talk to her, will you?” said Sarah, clearly not fond of her cousin’s childish display of actions, head leaning towards the direction of the King’s apartments.
“For goodness’ sake. What’s happening with her?” Richard said, and it was not a question directed to Sarah but to himself.
The Earl ushered into the Viscountess’ chamber and it made the girls run amuck with surprise.
“Ladies!” he said in his most respectable voice, “Calm down. There was no need for anything like this commotion you are making.”
He continued towards his sister, in front of her looking-glass, staring blankly.
“Leave us, ladies. I’d like a word in private with Her Ladyship.”
She looked at him and wondered about his sudden appearance in her chamber.
“Richard,”
“What do you think are you doing Hélène?”
It was as if Hélène came back to her senses and saw the mess that is her chamber. Her brother sat on a stool in front of her and leaned towards her.
“You are still barely clothed and you expect to attend the service?
“Richard, I… ”
“Take a frock and wear it immediately. The King was looking for you, and if you don’t go there you will meet his fury.”
YOU ARE READING
Beloved of a King
Historical FictionKingdom of Gaerdin, 16th century. When Mistress Hélène Feuillets won the intimacy of the king, Henry III, she thought she could finally be happy. It was common knowledge the king must have a son, an heir to the throne, and he needed to have him soon...
