An Accidental Queen

Chapter 11

At that moment, I wondered what he thought of me. Was I what he had expected? Did he consider me pretty? From the mist clouding his gaze, I could not tell.

"Lady Adeliza. You are more beautiful than your father described." The booming voice came from behind the canopy, penetrating the lilting music of the group of troubadours gathered in the hall.

A woman lingered at the mouth of the canopy, her raven hair hanging loose around her rounded shoulders in a foreign fashion. When I noticed Blanche's jaw clench, I realized she was Cecile of Burgundy, the mistress and subsequent wife of King Philip the Brave.

Indeed, Cecile of Burgundy was uncommonly beautiful. She appeared younger than I had expected her to be, though still years older than I, with gold-green eyes and alabaster skin. She was attired in a long gown covered with rubies and sapphires, sparkling as she swayed to catch the light emanating from the fire in the hearth. Her raven hair fell to her waist in undulating waves.

She displayed her slender neck as she spoke something into the canopy, her eyes grazing mine with unsettling reproach.

From within the canopied dais emerged a short man with a ruddy face, his ashen hair falling above his shoulders in waves. Philip the Brave was not as I expected him. Beneath the grandeur of an extravagant crown and a heavily embroidered jacket was a man not necessarily unpleasant in appearance, but far from regal. Other than the long aquiline nose that the monarchs of France had long possessed, he could have been a serf or a peasant.

He paced towards me, burying my hand within his large one as his hooded blue eyes appraised me. "How fared your journey?"

"It was rather exhausting, your majesty." Amid my anxiety, I had not considered the impropriety of answering the King of France in such a curt manner. When my eyes flew to one noblewoman, her mouth slack with terror, I realized my grave mistake.

A curtain of tension descended upon the hall. To the side of the dais, Blanche sent me a look of concern.

I gulped and directed my gaze towards the King, whose reddish face was split by an oafish smile. When his large stomach heaved with laughter, my fear dissolved.

"I hope you are rested enough to enjoy food and wine." King Philip grinned before raising his voice to address the noblemen and women gathered around us. "Now, let us feast to celebrate the dauphine's long-awaited arrival."

♕♕♕

As the moon mounted the horizon, casting an ethereal light through the soaring windows of the great hall, the feast began.

As I discovered, the tangy oranges of Toulouse were no match for the lavish cuisine of the royal household. Servants gorged the oak tables with so many plates of meat that I feared the wooden planks would collapse beneath them. Leeks, onions, bread, tarts, pork, venison, pastries, fish, poultry, and puddings of various kinds seemed to flow from the kitchen on glittering plates into the bellies of the nobles without disruption. After every meal—which seemed almost never-ending—servants carried hulking figurines constructed of sugar to display at the ends of the tables, their movements orchestrated by the lilting music of the flutes and fiddles that pulsed through the room.

Though I sipped my mug of watered-down ale unceasingly, I could not consume more than a loaf of barley bread and a bowl of stew. The bread was the softest I had ever tasted. At the manor, we had received portions of charred bread that would have been given to the Count's hunting hounds if not spared.

I was not used to such rich cuisine. Though I could feel the disapproving scowl of Martine burning the back of my head, my waning appetite prevented me from overindulging.