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Magnatrude Bartree’s rather sallow face reddened. “I simply meant,” she began carefully, “that for one situated as Sir James it would be untenable to—”

“I think I might be permitted to know my own husband rather better than you, madam!” Gunnilde cut in sharply. “Thank you kindly for your consideration!”

It occurred to Gunnilde that things had turned rather quiet elsewhere in the receiving chamber. She took a quick scan of the room and found to her dismay that everyone seemed to have drifted a good deal closer, and many appeared to be actively craning to hear their words.

“But why do you say this, Gunnilde?” the Queen asked with surprise, dragging her attention back from the crowd. “Why would an official appointment, say, as royal musician, not suit Sir James?”

Gunnilde darted a look around the dais. “Could you bid everyone to move away, Your Majesty? I do not wish to discuss such private matters with an audience.”

Mistress Bartree looked shocked by such a request, but the Queen stood up at once and shooed everyone away. She sat back down. “Pour us some drinks, Magnatrude.” The older woman complied at once. “Now,” she said, turning to Gunnilde, “tell me, for I am all agog.”

Gunnilde hesitated. “Well, firstly there is the fact James does not particularly care to perform for others. Then, secondly, I imagine that palace music would be just as select as cathedral music, perhaps more so. It would not serve to make his music hold general appeal, now, would it? Lastly...” She hesitated, then plunged on.

“I had thought that perhaps the endeavor might serve to bring us closer together,” she confessed.

“A man is supposed to cleave to his wife, is he not? If I can only prove my worth to James then he is sure to turn to me, is he not? You must know all about it, Your Majesty, for is that not what happened in your own case? Why, everyone knows—” She broke off awkwardly as Magnatrude Bartree let out a hiss like an enraged goose.

“No, no, she is quite right,” Armenal said, holding up a hand.

“You must not upbraid her, my good Magnatrude, for I dearly love to hear such unguarded speech, and such a thing is rare indeed in a palace.” She sighed and settled back in her seat.

“The King turned to me after I proved my worth to him in the face of overwhelming grief,” she acknowledged.

“I am sure it is whispered of in every corner of this castle.”

“Whispers are one thing, Your Majesty,” Magnatrude Bartree said angrily. “But to say it boldly to your face is another altogether!”

The Queen nodded. “Precisely. Is it any wonder then, why I am growing so fond of this young woman’s society? Now, let us speak some more about how you mean to snare this husband of yours and promote his interests, for I find it all quite fascinating .”

Afterward Gunnilde could not really have said what exactly she had rattled off in her eagerness to explain her line of thinking to the Queen.

She knew only that she talked at great length about all manner of things, and that Queen Armenal pressed her further whenever she showed any signs of flagging.

She even ended up having to tell her of the unofficial betrothal of her youth all over again.

“And this...Master Conway,” the Queen said, helping herself to a fig. “Where is he now?”

“I believe he resides with his sister and brother-in-law now. His sister Muriel is married to Sir Christopher Lelland, who is a prominent courtier.”

The Queen’s expression continued blank. “Is he?”

“Well, that is what they say in my home county.”

Mistress Bartree cleared her throat. “I believe Sir Christopher is one of the Hamford Lellands, Your Majesty,” she said, casting down her eyes.

“What is a Hamford Lelland?” the Queen asked. “It sounds like a kind of loaf cake.”

Her lady-in-waiting looked pained. “His uncle played a prominent role in the battle of Adarva,” she said gravely. “Being a childless man, Sir Christopher is his heir.”

“Ah, I see . So, his uncle garnered glory in the late war and Wymer rewarded him with land. This Sir Christopher, is he a warlike man like his uncle?”

“Not at all!” Gunnilde replied. “He is tall but stooping man and mild of speech and manner. He is several years older than Muriel. Why, his hair is already quite gray!”

The Queen nodded. “I see it all clear in my mind,” she said dreamily. “And Sir Arthur, after he did not honor his late father’s arrangements with your own, he married another?”

“I believe his sister had high hopes of securing him a grand heiress, but I have not heard if she actually managed to find him one yet,” Gunnilde admitted.

“You should find out,” the Queen said emphatically.

“If her husband brings her to court, then you should hold some select gathering and invite this Muriel who thinks so highly of her brother’s prospects.

Then she will be forced to acknowledge you as hostess and bear witness to your triumph.

I will attend as your guest of honor,” she said generously.

“Your Majesty!” Gunnilde breathed. “Would you really?”

“I would. You must invite Sir Arthur also and his bride if he has one. It would be amusing to see him discomforted by your superior status. You could reserve one of the function rooms here at the palace for the purpose. This former suitor of yours, he is good-looking?” she asked.

Gunnilde considered this. “I always thought so, Your Majesty,” she admitted. “His features are not distinct, but he has a pleasant smile and a neat, short beard and manners that have the distinction of a true gentleman born and bred.”

Armenal looked underwhelmed by this description. “So then, he will be as nothing compared to Sir James.”

“No, but few men would bear such a comparison,” Gunnilde said fairly.

A bell chimed in the distance, signifying it was midday. The crowds of courtiers started moving unhurriedly in the direction of the door.

“You will not go to the Great Hall to break your fast, Gunnilde,” the Queen decided. “Instead, you will accompany me back to my private rooms and join myself and Magnatrude.”

Gunnilde flushed with gratification, though she dared not look toward Mistress Bartree to gauge her reaction to the invitation.