The Falcon's Eyes: a Novel by Francesca Stanfill

Author:Francesca Stanfill
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2022-02-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 52

To my utter astonishment and delight, it was LaFoi who had come! He stood by the hearth like a gorgeous, otherworldly bird—a brilliant creature of gold braid and blue silk, his costume topped by an extravagant plumed cap which bore the swirling insignia of the Hauteclare household.

“LaFoi!” I cried, rushing toward him. It was all I could do not to embrace him. “How good to see you!”

He bowed with a flourish, and then gave me a gracious smile. “My lady.”

“You have come with a message, I trust? From the Lady Fastrada?”

“I have, my lady.”

“Such a long journey for you, to have ridden all the way from Troyes.”

“I have been traveling for over a week.”

“I am surprised it did not take you longer. The roads, being what they are, in winter.”

“I was fortunate. There had been a thaw, in the north. And my mount is accustomed to such rides.”

“You have been offered some wine, I know. Would you not like something to eat, as well?”

“Yes, I would, my lady.”

“I shall fetch Hortense.” As it turned out, there was no need to call for her: she had been hovering by the doorway. “Do come in, Hortense,” I told her as she walked toward us with a sheepish expression.

“This is LaFoi, who has come with a message from a very dear friend, Lady de Hauteclare of Troyes.”

She looked at him, and then back at me, in amazement. “He is the messenger of their household, then? And they are your friends, my lady?”

“Yes,” I replied. Clearly my association with such an exalted family had elevated my own position in her mind. “He has ridden a very long way,” I continued, “and it is likely that he will also spend the night here. Is that not so, LaFoi?”

He nodded. “Indeed, Lady Fastrada has ordered me to remain here until you have given me a letter to take back to her.”

Now my curiosity was at a fever pitch: What could Fastrada have possibly written me, and why would my reply be so crucial? Still preoccupied, I told Hortense: “Please see that he is given a chamber. And something to eat, at once.”

“Of course, my lady,” she replied, her gaze fixed on the splendidly accoutered LaFoi. Then, in a startlingly obsequious voice, one I had never heard from her before: “Is there anything else I might do, my lady? For you, my lady, or for your visitor?”

“No, that is all, Hortense, thank you,” I replied, on the verge of laughter; this was the first time I had ever heard Hortense address me as “my lady” with such alacrity. “You may go.”

Once I was certain she had left, I began to chuckle. “You seem to have made quite an impression on Hortense,” I told LaFoi.

“I have encountered this before, my lady.” He smiled. “In other provincial households.”

“I am sure you have.” But then I grew serious. “Now, LaFoi, do give me the letter! I long to read it.”

He produced a roll of parchment from his satchel: how cheering it was to glimpse the familiar hand, and the florid Hauteclare seal! “Come,” I said.

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