Rivals for the Crown by Kathleen Givens

younger knights.
    "I will keep that in mind," she said, laughing with them.
    "We will see you anon, demoiselles." He leaned toward her from the saddle. "I look forward to it."
    "As do I," Isabel said. She sighed as the knights rode forward.
    "Is he not the most handsome man you've ever seen?"
    "Is that de Boyer?" Alis asked. "I've heard of him."
    "You do not know him?"
    "No," Alis said softly, watching Henry ride through the gate.
    "What have you heard?"
    "That he is as delicious as he looks. I wonder."
    Isabel gave her a startled glance, then hid her surprise. She'd been at court long enough to know courtiers talked like this— though never before to her.
    Alis smiled slowly. "You will learn, Isabel, to take your pleasures where they lay. So to speak."
    "Don't you always take your pleasures, Alis?" Lady Dickleburough asked.
    "A wise woman does. As Isabel will learn eventually. She has excellent taste in men, does she not? Ah, our horses. Now we can be the ones doing the mounting instead of being mounted. Isabel, you'll learn what that means as well."
    Isabel smothered her annoyance. She was weary of Alis's treating her like an ignorant child. She fell into place. The queen's retinue was long, and some of the streets were so narrow that they had to ride in a single file. Not everyone, it seemed, loved the queen, for several called insults as she passed. One imprudent soul even threw refuse from a window above, but it hit no one. Isabel saw the queen's guards burst through the door of the house; the man would pay dearly for that transgression. No one dared approach the queen, but the knights, including Henry, were kept busy riding along the procession in a show of force. When at last they turned onto the wider western road that led back to Westminster, Isabel was glad of it, and gladder still when Henry fell into step with her.
    "Demoiselle, did you enjoy your ride?"
    "Sir! How could I? I was filled with fear that the queen would be attacked at any moment. I am so glad we are out of the city."
    "She is not a popular monarch, is she? But that is why we are with you, demoiselle, to protect you. And for the sheer joy of your company."
    "Well said, sir," Alis said, bringing her horse alongside his. "You have a pretty way with words."
    Henry bowed with a smile. "Pretty words are plentiful with such inspiration as you two, demoiselle."
    Alis smiled and tilted her head. "How the women must love you, Sir de Boyer. Are you as good at everything as you are at flattery?"
    "It is not flattery, demoiselle, simply saying what I see."
    "Would you say more if you saw more?" Alis asked.
    "I would see first, then say," he answered, laughing.
    "Then let us see," Alis said, and she spurred her horse forward to engage Lady Dickleburough in conversation.
    Henry watched her leave. "Who is she, demoiselle?"
    "Alis de Braun," Isabel said sullenly.
    "I have heard of her. Now I will remember her."
    Isabel was taken aback by his remark.
    Henry laughed. "Jealous, sweet? Do not be. She is lovely, yes, but you are beautiful. In ten years she will be bitter and haggard and you will still be beautiful. Hers is a beauty that fades with time. And use. Now, tell me, have you been visiting your grandmother?"
    "Yes, often."
    "I shall look for you on the river then."
    He touched the brim of his helmet and left her, riding forward along the procession. He paused for a moment, leaning to say something to Alis. She smiled at him, seemed to hesitate, then nodded. Henry's smile was wide as he left her.
    THREE
    BERWICK-UPON-TWEED, SCOTLAND
    H ere we are," her father said cheerfully.
    Rachel Angenhoff, formerly Rachel de Anjou, stared in dismay at the building that was to be her new home, trying to find something good about it. It was standing. She could see no other virtue in it. She spared her father Jacob a glance, seeing the strain in his eyes that belied his jovial manner. But she dared not meet her sister Sarah's gaze, for Sarah was no doubt feeling the same horror