Night fell and the King's cavalcade advanced towards the castle. The journey had lasted for a whole day and as a result, both the horses and their masters were struggling to keep their eyes open. The only thing that motivated them to not beg the King for a rest period was the approaching lights from the castle of Arras.
Finally the guests reached, and the gates opened to allow their entry. Workers of the castle had long before assembled near the front door to welcome them.
The travel had made Charmolue, who wasn't used to such trips, queasy. Every hour he had spent on that wretched road with that wretched horse they had given him had been miserable. Since he was a torturer, few knew of him outside Paris and even few were eager to welcome him in the castle. That was a good thing, as the proctor at that moment was only looking forward to greeting his chamber.
All this time, a small box wrapped in a yellow cloth was inconspicuously getting carried by the servants from the Palace of Justice. Amidst the rest of the minister's belongings, it was easily passed off as another holder for jewellery or religious objects. Nobody had expressed the slightest doubt regarding its contents.
The Minister himself walked inside the castle with poise, although blinking often. He was not one to let his weakness show, no matter how tedious the journey had been. Using his time in the palanquin to mentally revise the plan had stopped feeling as enthralling of a pastime as he had initially thought it to be. His mind had then given into fantasies about Esmeralda, but to his dismay, even those began to lose flavor after a point. Maybe the uneasiness of sitting in one position was to blame.
Vibrant, new drapes were used to decorate the castle's interior. As soon as the officials arrived in the hall, servants lined up to serve them white wine. Louis and Maximilian were the first recipients. Being rulers who travelled often, fatigue wasn't apparent on the royals' faces, but from how they were genially conversing, any other possibility was eliminated.
The King cheerfully drank from his chalice. 'Ah, chardonnay. I adore Burgundian wine. Dear Maximilian, it's strange that you came all the way to Paris and didn't pack up Bourgogne for me?'
Maximilian smiled awkwardly. 'I... forgot about it, your grace. But we have plenty of wine here for you to bask in for a week.'
'That is wonderful,' said the King. 'For it is an occasion where wine shall be called for. And look, there comes your future son-in-law!'
Frollo turned to look at the entrance and saw the twelve-year-old groom, Charles walking in, doing his utmost to smile and greet everyone while keeping his demeanor civil yet regal. Going towards Maximilian and Louis, he went down on a knee. The King smiled in fatherly approval. Maximilian's response echoed Louis's, but his eyes subtly surveyed the young dauphin.
'Where is the bride?' Louis asked excitedly.
'Most likely asleep.'
'Why? She should be here!'
Maximilian answered, 'I told the maids to not wake her up until tomorrow. There is no requirement for her tonight.'
Louis argued, 'But brother, there is only a week to the signing. She needs to get used to the people of the French court. Otherwise, you understand, going to a foreign country alone, with a new governess, it might overwhelm her.'
Maximilian sipped the wine further. 'I do.'
From a few feet away, Frollo watched the future allies bantering. Charmolue walked beside him.
'They look like father and son.'
The minister twinkled. 'Fatigue.'
'Monseigneur, can you tell them to excuse me? I would prefer to sleep right away.'
'Dinner is about to get served. You can wait till that.'
Charmolue stretched his arms. 'Honestly, I don't have much of an appetite. I shall eat tomorrow.'
Frollo shrugged his shoulders. 'As you wish.' The proctor mumbled a thanks before exiting the hall. On his way he turned down a servant who had come with a tray of white wine. The servant then made his way to Frollo. He accepted.
The hall turned towards the royals at once when the King clanked his chalice with a silver spoon. 'Gentlemen, and ladies,' he loftily smiled at women who had come to attend the betrothal. 'We have all gathered here for the occasion that is called for to resolve the misadventure that has been the France-Burgundian wars. In this week, we shall come to a negotiation that will attain peaceful coexistence for the houses of Valois and Habsburg. And of course, its success will be marked by the betrothal of Dauphin Charles and Princess Margaret. I thank Archduke Maximilian for his cooperation in the setting up of this event. I wish us luck. God bless France!'
The assembly erupted in applause. Many officials gave similar speeches after it and it soon got banal.
Frollo absent-mindedly listened to the blather. The crisp, sweet taste of the drink made his thoughts divert to the fact that Bourgogne was the one gift he had given to Esmeralda which she had appreciated. Perhaps on the way back he would take another bottle for home.
From the way she had acted in the past two days, Frollo was certain that she must have spent the day sleeping. It may be that the temporary separation was for the best. It would give her ample time to reflect on her behavior and feel his absence. He was no stranger to dealing with rigidity. Jehan too, often used to be upset at Claude. All hostility would fade the moment he was in need of coin. Esmeralda's psyche couldn't be too different.
Having said that, it would be a lie to say that he wasn't hurt when she had described their time together using such an abhorrent word. For all their troubles, he had provided and cared for her when he easily could have her imprisoned. He had given her a choice and she had willingly chosen him.
He tried not to let that take over his mood. It was an important event and he needed to remain focused.
Once the orations were over, the guests were invited to the table for dinner. The servants laid out shining plates containing freshly killed fish, which was heavily flavoured with thyme and pepper. Jellies and custards were dyed red to suit the event's grandeur. The chicken pie boasted a bright yellow tint achieved with the help of imported eastern saffron. It was, all in all, a splendid feast.
Ripened pears boiled in red wine and seasoned with cinnamon and ginger were served at the end. In that age, not having the dinner table decorated with excessive honey and sugar was the harbinger of shame to the master's name, something that King Louis could never risk. Frollo saw the aged monarch gorge himself on tart after tart, accompanied by glasses of fermented pinot noir and chardonnay, and wondered if the era of young Charles was to come sooner than everyone anticipated.
After eating, Frollo decided to follow Charmolue's lead and excuse himself to his chambers, but was stopped by Maximilian.
'Minister Frollo, I hope that you enjoyed the food,' he said.
Frollo agreed and gave a formal reply, 'Indeed, our royal highness prepared a magnificent feast.' He then paused, waiting for him to signal his real intention.
Maximilian nodded slowly. 'I would love for you to come to my chambers and participate in a game of chess. I have heard a great deal about your intellectual capabilities.'
'Certainly, monsieur. It shall be my pleasure to accompany you. I too have heard about the giftedness of Austrians,' he added cheekily.
Maximilian smiled. 'In ten minutes. You can ask any servant to lead you.'
--
The duke's servants were instructed to leave him and the minister undisturbed after setting up the chessboard. For further safety, he put up the drapes to all windows of his chamber.
The chess pieces had been crafted beautifully from gold and silver, instead of black and white. Maximilian sat down on the side of the gold ones. 'Where is Master Charmolue? I did not see him at dinner.'
'He was feeling unwell after the journey, so he went to his chamber to sleep.'
'Then I think we should talk when he is here.'
Frollo shrugged his shoulders. 'There is no need for it. I will tell him anything important. Besides, pretty much all of the idea behind the discovery is mine.' He made his king's pawn leap two steps.
Maximilian repeated Frollo's move with his own pawn so the two pieces would directly face one another. 'Whatever you prefer. I didn't have much to say, just that I spoke to my specialists, and they're rather dubious about the whole plan. You understand that Austrians are not too trusting of Frenchmen as of now.'
'So what's your next course of action?' interrogated Frollo, moving his horseman to threaten the gold pawn.
The duke shifted his bishop to protect the pawn. Nonetheless, the minister moved his queen's pawn to endanger it. Maximilian concentrated on the board, his temple creasing.
'So, what of your plan?'
'Don't worry; I convinced them to come.' Maximilian chose to abandon the pawn and shifted a spare bishop to the other side of the board. Frollo took advantage of the moment to capture his queen, which to his unawareness, was being imperilled by a horseman. The duke groaned in frustration. Frollo chuckled, 'I'm interested to see how you perform without the queen, monsieur.'
'Well, my queen is going to be proud of me. I am sure of that. Be careful about your own,' he grinned, placing his bishop diagonal to the silver queen.
Frollo responded by shifting a pawn between them. 'I have functioned very well without a queen for all my life.'
'Oh, then who was the beauty at the Palace?'
The minister broke his gaze away from the board and cast it on Maximilian. 'Who?'
Maximilian was caught off guard. 'When I was leaving after seeing your discovery, a young woman came to meet me.'
'Meet you?'
'She wanted to know whether there are gypsies in Burgundy. She even took an Egyptian name and asked me if I knew someone who had it.'
'You must be hallucinating.'
'What?' asked the ruffled duke. 'No, I myself took her for a ghost at first. But she had a noticeable blemish on her neck.'
'Blemish?'
'I mean it was dark, but there was patently a blemish. She appeared distressed. I wouldn't blame her; that wound looked painful.' The judge's features grew stern. 'Forget that it ever happened.'
'Al...alright,' said Maximilian. 'Now please, calm down. Let us resume the game.'
Without warning the doors of the chamber flung open. 'His royal highness, King Louis the Eleventh of Valois,' a guard chanted too late. The minister and duke stood up.
Louis jubilantly walked inside the room, then halted. 'Claude? You are here?' His eyes moved to the table. 'And playing chess?'
'Duke Maximilian invited me for a game, your majesty.'
The King went towards the table and took a thorough look at the board, as if inspecting it. Maximilian and Frollo shared confused glances.
'Who is who?'
'I am gold and Minister Frollo is silver,' replied Maximilian. Louis taunted, 'Claude chose silver. How ironic. I expected you to be gold.' The judge chuckled softly to conceal his discomfiture.
Coming near him, Louis playfully hit Frollo's arm. 'You look quite happy nowadays. Bohemian women are good, hmm?'
Frollo stopped smiling. 'Your... grace?'
'I kind of miss that scowl,' he continued, pointing upwards at Frollo's face. 'I should get her hanged when we return. Or perhaps take her for myself and get her to spill all your secrets?'
Both the other men fell silent.
Once more the quietude was broken by Louis's laugh, as he patted the confounded Frollo's back. 'It was a joke, my dear minister. You worked hard to remove those gypsies. She is yours.'
Still cheerful, he turned around. 'But your lovely Margaret shall be mine, Maximilian.' The duke stood still as a rock, then began to laugh nervously.
'Now please, carry on the game,' said the King, walking out of the chamber without looking at either of them.
As soon as he was out, Maximilian ran towards the chamber door and put his ear on it. Frollo watched him earnestly. After a few seconds of wait he shook his head. 'He didn't give any orders to the guards.'
'Of course he didn't. There are more of your soldiers in this part of the castle than his,' replied Frollo.
'Do you believe that we did anything to make him suspicious?'
'No, but it's best to be careful Most likely he is more suspicious of you than me,' he paused. 'Also, let's not call Master Charmolue to these meetings. For safety.'
'But I don't think that he would betray us, Monseigneur,' the duke protested. Frollo shook his head. 'Don't trust anybody. This will remain between us.'