Queen's Own Fool Read Free

measure. Then reluctantly, she stepped aside to admit a tall, delicately-boned young woman into the room.
    This woman had amber-colored hair, enormous green-gold eyes under heavy lids, and a lovely long neck. Unlike her companion, she wore a dress of white and pale green. As she moved—spring to her companion’s winter—the skirt swelled out with close-set pleats like a bell that parted to show a smooth green underskirt. Her velvet overbodice was embroidered with gold leaves and green florets. The ruff at her neck was tinged with green from which jeweled ropes of pearls and beads hung down. She was like the fairy princess in one of Maman’s tales, and I drew in my breath in wonder.
    The older woman made a downward gesture in our direction with the flat of her hand.
    Only Uncle understood. He bowed deeply, motioning us to do likewise.
    So I bowed, just like Uncle and the boys, and was embarrassed when Nadine and Annette each performed a graceful curtsy. I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks as I blushed again.
    Uncle scowled at me. I think he would have beaten out his displeasure on my poor head, but the cane was lying too far away.
    The tall girl did not seem disturbed by my bow. In fact, she looked positively amused to see me act like a man. Perhaps she had made a similar error in not wearing mourning? I felt a sudden compassion for her.
    â€œWhat pretty young women and what handsome young men,” she said brightly to Uncle. Then for the first time she looked around the room. “But why is this room so plain? So ... empty? I must have rushes and hangings sent down at once to warm it up.”
    â€œRushes and hangings—I asked for such,” I blurted out.
    All of Troupe Brufort glared at me.
    But the tall girl smiled. “So should you all!”
    I turned and grinned at the troupe, but no one smiled back.
    The tall girl continued. “I am delighted that you have come to us. Pray, do your very best to bring some joy into this dark day.” She shook her head and a wave of perfume wafted over us, like a wind over a flower garden. “This should have been the happiest of times for our new crowned king. But with his papa so newly and horribly dead, he can take little pleasure in it.”
    â€œSo the beggar girl said,” I put in. Pierre grabbed my skirt and pulled me back and I realized I had gone too far, so I gave a quick curtsy.
    But the tall girl nodded, as if she had heard from the very same beggar. “Still, we must have some celebration today, a small token, do you not agree?” She smiled again. “So tonight do not hold back, Troupe ...” She hesitated, looking for the name.
    â€œBrufort, Your Highness,” put in Uncle, his voice deeply oiled.
    â€œBrufort,” she said, dimpling at him.
    Having finished her little speech, she turned gracefully and left the room. Her silk skirts sounded like a rivulet rushing over stones, but softer and more intimate and much more welcoming.
    â€œHighness? Highness? Who was that?” I whispered to Nadine.
    The elderly woman raised her eyebrows at me as though I had just spat upon the floor. “Stupid girl. That was the new queen, Mary. It is at her insistence this entertainment has been arranged.” The scowl on her face was evidence that she did not herself approve.
    â€œQueen Mary,” I whispered with the kind of passion one reserves for a life’s pledge.

3
    GREAT HALL
    W e had barely gotten dry when two serving girls entered carrying baskets of sweet rushes and herbs which they scattered over the floor. Within minutes the sour odor was gone and in its place a fresh garden smell.
    It was even better than the fairy tales had made it sound, and I clapped my hands together. “La! We are quite the upper crust now.”
    The servants giggled and left, but right behind them came three men with tapestries which they hastily hung on the bare walls.
    When I tried to say something to them as well,