Lord of Forever by Gillgannon Mary

Author:Gillgannon, Mary
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2021-09-07T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Cristyn took a deep breath to calm herself. Then she nodded to the page waiting outside the king’s bedchamber. The page, a fair-haired, elegantly dressed youth went in to announce her.

As Cristyn waited for page to return, she considered the strange English custom of greeting visitors and clients in the bedchamber. Lady Joanna said her father conducted much of his business there, sometimes meeting with courtiers and advisors with his wife, Queen Isabella, in bed beside him. Of course, the king’s bedchamber was probably the warmest, most comfortable place in any castle.

Cristyn licked her dry lips. Not only was she terribly nervous about meeting the king, she felt a special dread at the thought he would speak only French. She had told Lady Joanna of her anxiety and begged her to be present at this meeting. But the princess said the king wished to see Cristyn alone. When Cristyn expressed concerns about speaking French, Lady Joanna said there would be a clerk nearby who was skilled in languages. He could interpret if necessary.

Lady Joanna’s reassurances had done little to calm Cristyn’s fears. At this moment, she felt like mouse confronting a hungry cat.

The page came out and escorted her into the bedchamber, which was furnished with all the luxuries due a king: a huge bed enclosed with deep purple sarcenet curtains, brightly colored tapestry wall hangings to keep out the draft, a bronze charcoal brazier for warmth and an elaborately carved prie dieu for kneeling at prayers.

The king, thankfully, wasn’t in the bed but seated behind a delicate table of carved, dark wood. At his side was a plump, round-faced clerk, writing on a piece of parchment.

Cristyn immediately saw the resemblance between John and his daughter. The king had the same straight black hair and striking gold-green eyes. Those eyes made her terrified thought about being a mouse facing a cat seem even more apt.

But while Lady Joanna was slender and finely made, King John was short and stocky. And his features were coarser, his complexion florid. He didn’t look healthy, and Cristyn had the sudden image of an oak tree that appeared sturdy and strong on the outside, but which was being eaten from within by rot. Hatred and resentment could do that, she knew.

Clutching her skirts in damp hands, she curtsied. She cleared her throat, which was as dry as a stalk of grain under the summer sun. “Your Majesty.”

“Cristyn ferch Hywel.” The king inclined his head politely, clearly showing his royal upbringing. She might be far beneath him, but she was a lady. No doubt his mother, the legendary Eleanor of Aquitaine, had made certain he knew how to behave with the fairer sex, at least in formal situations such as this.

The king sat back and steepled his hands. “I understand you are enceinte.”

Clearly, he was not a man to waste times with pleasantries.

“Yea, sire.”

“And the father, he is English?”

“Yea, sire.”

John’s eyes narrowed. “But you love him.”

“Yea, sire.”

“And wish to wed with him.”

“Yea, sire.”

He seemed to

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