An Accidental Queen

Chapter 3

The servants and peasants could not dance until the nobility had finished, and so we waited for our turn.

"Say what you will about our new mistress, but she dances well," Fleurine commented, directing us to gaze at the young Isabelle.

Her colour was improved with the flush of exercise, but I thought her to be stiff and uncomfortable.

Bernard did not appear himself. His eyes were dull. He did not look at his bride, staring instead at tapestries rich with scenes from ceremonious duels to serene village maidens weaving.

"If you mean she dances like a wounded mare." William snorted on his wine, red liquid staining his tunic.

"Farm animals have more decency than you, William." Gerard chided, though a mild look of amusement softened his rough features. My eyes traced his, and he looked away, reddening.

Our turn came, and the servants hopped up from their chairs, scrambling over to the dancing section of the great hall with little care for their clumsiness.

I stayed behind, watching my company leap about with no restraint or skill, and wondering what my masters thought of us. A spectacle of ruddy faces loomed above clumsy feet and stocky limbs, unconcerned with the amused and somewhat disgusted glances of the nobility.

Isabelle did not look pleased with having to watch the peasants dance. Her eyes narrowed and mouth knotted in contempt. My mercy for her melted, and the old dislike flooded back into my chest. We did not share the privilege of Italian dance lessons, so her judgement was unfair.

"Catherine, would you care to dance with me?" Startling me, Gerard had moved to stand beside my chair. His hands were folded awkwardly in front of his tunic—soiled, though neatly arranged. A nervousness haunted his eyes, though I was not sure of what I had done to startle him.

I did not want to wound him, so I complied, but my thoughts remained at the dais, where Bernard's stare was then locked upon us.

Neither of us was as dignified or graceful as our noble counterparts, but Gerard had a lively foot and kept good time to the chansons. He was quick, but waited for me to catch up. He was rather tall for a serf, and I had to strain my head to look over his shoulder. I held onto him as he swept me around the room, spinning in circles till dizziness overtook me and I laughingly asked him if we might rest. However, the entire time I was focussed on Bernard and his family atop the dais, wondering if he was looking back.

When we returned to our table, Fleurine cast me one of her strange looks.

♕♕♕

LATER, WHEN WE had retired to our communal bed chamber shared with other unmarried female servants at the uttermost bottom of the manor, Fleurine asked me about Gerard.

"What would you like to know about him?" I replied, wrapping a coarsely woven blanket around myself and flattening my stomach against the floor, hoping to absorb some heat emanating from the furnaces and fireplaces in the grander rooms of the house. The stone walls of our chamber provided little protection from the roaring winds outside, especially when the fading sun shifted below the horizon.

"I was watching when the two of you danced together in the great hall this evening. Have you not noticed the way he beholds you?" Fleurine adjusted her own straw mattress, spearing me with her inquisitive pale gaze.

"I have not," I said as embarrassment all but engulfed me. I had been far too preoccupied with our masters atop the raised dais to notice anything or anyone else.

"There is not much besides the might of God that can stop a young man from claiming a bride he loves." Fleurine remained oblivious to my humiliation, twisting her long silvery-brown hair into a knot down her crooked back. "I remember when my Anthoine won my heart. He found a bunch of wildflowers in the forest and told me they would complement my blue eyes. His own eyes showed nothing but love and affection for me—the same look I saw on Gerard's face when he beheld you."