The Last Queen by Gortner C. W

Author:Gortner, C. W. [Gortner, C. W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780345501851
Publisher: Ballantine Books
Published: 2009-01-02T07:00:00+00:00

_________________

A WEEK LATER, MY CHAMBER DOOR OPENED AND ARCHBISHOP CISNEROS walked

in.

We‟d had only the most cursory of contact. He‟d been away dealing with the

Moorish insurrection when I first arrived, and after he made his antipathy for my

husband clear during our investiture. I steered clear of him. I proved easy enough. He

did not live at court but rather in his diocese in Toledo, where he attended my mother

and her Cortes as Castile‟s premier prelate.

His sudden appearance here, in La Mota, brought my women and me to a

standstill.

He seemed like a cadaver of a man, his hard black stare severe as a fanatic‟s. My

ladies paused in mid-motion, arms filled with linens, sections of my gowns and other

items. We‟d taken advantage of the dreary afternoon and Fernandito‟s nap to sort

through my belongings, choosing what I would take and what I would leave behind,

as a royal household, however well control ed, invariably accumulates more than one

expects.

He stepped forth, clad in his trademark brown wool cloak and habit, his horny

feet bare in their sandals. He took us in with a piercing glance. “May I ask what Your

Highness is doing?”

“What I am doing is sorting through my things,” I told him. “I‟ve accumulated

more than a galleon can hold and I assume that given the state of the treasury Her

Majesty my mother won‟t wish to furnish me with an armada to take me home.”

With the lift of his hand, Cisneros motioned my women out. I clenched my jaw,

resisting the urge to remind him of who I was. Beatriz gave me a worried glance as

she closed the door.

The archbishop and I faced each other. I felt his fury at once, rising between us

like a wall.

“Begging Your Highness‟s pardon,” he said, “your decision to leave is most

sudden.”

“I hardly see why,” I replied. “I have my children and my husband waiting for me.

I can hardly remain here indefinitely.”

“Oh?” His thin, bloodless lips tightened. “And what about Your Highness‟s duty

to Spain? Or is that not as important as your own pleasure?”

I met his unblinking stare. I determined not to show how much it unnerved me,

for thus did I imagine he looked upon the pleasing heretics he condemned to the fire.

“My duty here is done,” I said carefully. “I love Spain with all my heart and will return to claim my throne when the time comes. But, my lord, that time is far into the future.

My mother, God save her, is well and has many years ahead of her. And I have a

home in Flanders to attend to.”

One wiry black eyebrow arched. “Few share your belief that anyone in Flanders is

waiting for you, with all due respect. Indeed, we find this show of devotion most

surprising.”

“Surprising?” I echoed, and I forced myself to sound nonchalant. “I don‟t see

why. Philip and I are bound by holy matrimony. I should think that you of all people

would respect said vows.” I paused. “I wrote to Her Majesty my mother, conveying

my decision. Are you here at her command? Or are you in the habit of opening and

reading her private correspondence?”

The ghost of a smile touched his mouth.

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