Thine Eyes of Mercy by Danielle M. Orsino

Author:Danielle M. Orsino [Orsino, Danielle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: 4 Horsemen Publications, Inc.
Published: 2021-12-10T02:42:54+00:00

Chapter Nine:

A Fae in Queen Mary’s Court (circa late November 1554)

London in late November was colder than usual as winter took England into its fold. The dark night held all her mystery; even silver moonlight could not penetrate the grey clouds streaking the navy sky. Bishop Awynn arrived via Queen Mary’s fireplace in his usual fashion. Queen Mary was up late working on needlepoint. She sat by the fire humming to herself in her muslin sleeping gown and nightcap. Her shapeless attire hid the small protrusion indicating her pregnancy. However, Lady Sekhmet—worshiped as Mother Nature—had a gift for detecting fertility and conception.

Queen Mary was not startled by Bishop Awynn, as she had advance notice of his arrival, but she was not pleased to see him either.

“Bishop Awynn, to what do I owe this late-night intrusion?” Queen Mary said, glancing up between her stitches, refusing to stand or curtsy.

Standing just outside the hearth, Bishop Awynn bowed. “Please forgive my visit, Your Highness. Queen Aurora sends her greetings. She has also sent me to watch over you during this delicate time of your pregnancy. You received her letter?” He smiled and kneeled in front of her to show he was amicable to all human customs.

Queen Mary picked up the pace of her needlepoint during his greeting, giving him a fleeting glance. Bishop Awynn cocked his head to the side. Gone was the desperate woman he had met a few months before.

Queen Mary set aside the blackwork needlepoint taught to her by her mother and strode over to him. The sleeping shift she wore could have been a brocade ballgown with the way she carried herself. Her chin held high, she narrowed her eyes. “Bishop, answer me. Thy queen does not trust me?” Her tone was of inquiry with a twist of accusation.

Awynn was almost impressed with her candor … almost. “No, Your Majesty. Queen Aurora wishes you well. Any intelligent monarch makes sure her arrangements are beneficial for her people. A clever monarch will see it is fruitful for all parties involved. I am here to help facilitate.”

Queen Mary bit the inside of her cheek but decided this battle was not hers to win tonight. “How do I introduce thee to the courtiers?” she inquired with an arched eyebrow. A yawn punctuated the end of her question, and she did not bother to stifle it.

Bishop Awynn gave a subtle smile. He had prepared for her questions. “I am a professor at Oxford University, here to advise and help bridge the gap between the old religious factions in Ireland and England.”

Queen Mary shrugged halfheartedly at his quick response and turned away, pacing for a moment. “Most earls, barons, and dukes educate their sons at the university. They know the professors, and your language is not quite correct.” Arms behind her, she shifted her weight from her heels to her toes, waiting.

“I have been on sabbatical in Wexford, Your Majesty, observing the druids; it will also explain my unique dialect.” There was a gleam in Awynn’s eye.

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