windsor castle july 1172 i went to the chapel, which that night was empty. the presence was lit on the altar and an old priest sat near, tending it. i knelt on the cold stone floor, doubling my skirt under me to protect my knees. i did not take the mass, as i still had not been shriven. i could not confess, for i did not repent. so i set thoughts of myself and my sin aside, and prayed instead for richard. i had wounded him, more deeply than i would have thought possible. as i knelt, my anger at him and his infidelity rose to choke me, until it threatened to block out everything else. once more i saw the blue, beguiling eyes of richard’s lover, the warm welcome on her face, her arms opening to draw my betrothed to her as richard closed the curtain to the alcove behind them. i turned my eyes on the statue of the mother by the altar, and reminded myself how she had seen worse things done, and she had forgiven them. this was cold comfort, and blasphemy, so i said a few beads of my father’s rosary, and crossed myself, praying both for france and for my own soul, that i might come to humility once more, that i might feel remorse for what i had done. i was far from remorseful, and i knew it. i was truly eleanor’s daughter now. “do you pray for richard?” henry’s voice drew me from my prayers, caressing me, bringing heat to my face and my loins as if he had touched me. i had not known it was possible to want a man as much as i wanted him. this must be what the church preached against, this overwhelming lust that blocked out all reason and all prayer. still, i did not repent. i stood and crossed myself, turning only then to meet the king’s eyes. “well, do you?” “i do, my lord. and i pray for you. and for this kingdom.” “do you regret what you have done?” i saw the danger in his eyes for the first time. i wondered if, even now, after acknowledging me before the entire court, henry would turn from me, blighting all my hopes. i stepped toward him, watching his face. he did not back away from me, but he did not move to meet me, either. “i regret nothing, henry. you know that.” “do i? what i know is that as soon as i announce i am removing my royal presence and your lovely self from windsor, you turn white like a milkmaid who had been tilted in a field, and you run to prayer for comfort. and i am not alone in seeing this. you ran from me in front of the entire court.” i heard his words unspoken: i had run from him in front of eleanor and richard. this was all he truly cared about. i cursed myself for a fool. i would have to remember to look to the king always, as i had once looked to eleanor. i had no one now to guide me but myself. i would have to do better. “henry, i am sorry” he raised one hand, as if to order me from him, but i did not stop. i moved toward him, until my breasts brushed against his chest, where his gown hid his body from me. i took in his scent, the sandalwood i loved, and his own scent under that, the scent of henry, the most erotic scent i had ever bathed in. he saw the honest pleasure on my face; that was what moved him more than my contrite words. for he did not love me for my obedience, nor for my old shows of modesty he loved me for my fire, as eleanor and richard had loved me before him. but with him, my inner fire burned brightest. only he knew how to stoke it, to make it burn. i thought we might leave together. perhaps he knew a different way to his rooms, a secret passage from the chapel that would take us up some hidden stairs, back to his bed. but he would not wait. henry drew me deeper into the gloom of the chapel, far from the altar, behind a choir screen. he pressed me back against the stone wall. i opened my mouth to protest, to ask him to take me to his bed, but i saw in his eyes that he would exact this price. if he was to let my desertion before the court pass, i would have to concede this. i asked forgiveness of the holy mother in silence, then raised my lips to his. henry’s body blocked the chapel from my view but for some feeble candlelight still visible at the altar. all i could see was that light, and him. henry looked into my eyes. what he saw there must have satisfied him. i opened my mouth under his as he pressed me hard against the wall. the stone dug into my back as he raised me up. he hoisted my skirt, his hands under me. i reached down, but he wore no leggings, only a long gown, so he was ready for me, even as i caressed him. he groaned, low and long, in my ear, and i thought he might drop me, so great was his pleasure. i fastened my teeth on his ear, and he laughed under his breath. “you will be the death of me, alais.” “god forbid, your grace.” he took me then, my back pressed to the wall, my legs wrapped around his hips. i was still sore, for i had been a virgin when he first touched me, but the pain was soon eclipsed by my own desire. i heard myself panting in his ear, and then i moaned his name. the pleasure came to me even as henry groaned and lost himself in me. he clutched me close, and set me down, breathing hard, as i was. i forgot how much older he was than me. he had the strength of a lion still. someday, god willing, we would make fine sons. this idle thought crossed my mind, and i let it go just as quickly i did not want to think of politics, or of tomorrow. i stood in my lover’s embrace, my skirt falling once more around my ankles. i pressed my lips to henry’s throat. he laughed and leaned down to kiss me. “i believe i was angry at you,” he said. i laughed low, and kissed him back. “god forbid, my liege.” he looked down at me, and though his face was soft with love and spent desire, i saw his intelligence there shining back at me. i could not make such a mistake again. i would remember it. “come to bed, henry,” i said. he quirked an eyebrow at my presumption, but i pressed myself against him, and he did not contradict me. he drew me close, and led me out of that chapel by a back way. we made our way through a dark passage, until we emerged once more in henry’s rooms from a secret door hidden behind a tapestry. i laughed. “henry, is there no end to secrets in this keep?” he kissed me, but his gray eyes were solemn. “no, alais. and you would do well to remember it.” i was sick of politics. i wanted him over me in bed with no thought for any other, with no thought for the morrow. i drew him down with me even before his chamberlain and page had fled, kissing him deeply. i pulled his gown off him so that his naked skin was against mine. i turned my mind from anything beyond the shadows of that bed. i took henry in, body and soul, mouth and tongue and teeth, and banished all thoughts of eleanor and richard. henry worked like a magic elixir over me. as long as the curtains of that bed were drawn, i could forget all else, even my own father, even that henry was king.

when we left for deptford, i expected a litter to carry me. sampson was brought to the courtyard instead, already saddled and waiting. bijou peeked out from beneath my cloak, almost as if she was looking for henry. i could feel her tail wagging against my side, and i wondered if i had been foolish to bring her. the king saw her, and laughed. “i am glad to see that you are loath to part from my gift, my lady. i will have to give you more, to see if you will bear them all with you wherever you go.” “the gift of your presence is enough for all of us, my lord king” i lowered my eyes as i said this, but not before i saw the approving looks from the men around us. henry’s smile broadened, and he rode beside me as we left the castle keep. i waved to marie helene as i rode out, and saw her in conversation with a man-at-arms who was being left behind. i wondered if she might take a lover while i was gone. i thought to warn her from it, but we had gone too far, and already it was too late to turn back. henry met my eyes. “don’t fear for your gentlewoman. she will be safe in my court.” “even without you near?” i asked, my voice pitched low so that no one else could hear. henry’s open, sunny laugh warmed me. there was something charming about him always, a warmth that reached out to me all the days i knew him. “the king’s peace extends beyond my presence,” henry said. “i have worked hard to secure it.” i thought of the stories i had heard of the time before his reign, when his mother and king stephen had torn the country apart with their civil war. no woman was safe in the kingdom then; babes were spitted on pikes, and good english cities fell to english armies; war-lords ravaged the countryside without ceasing. that dark time was the very thing that my father had spent his life and mine to defend france from. henry gave his own country a strong rule of law that was rarely if ever seen in christendom. henry had been strong enough to make the peace and to keep it. i wondered if his son young henry would be as strong. that was a dangerous road to travel, for thoughts of any of his sons led to richard. so i turned my eyes back to henry where he rode beside me, slowing his horse and the horses of the entire company for my sake. “my father seeks to keep the peace in france, my lord.” “and is he successful?” “you would know that better than i, your grace.” “i think he does well, alais. better than one of his nature is wont to do, for he is not strong, but only good. a good man is usually not fit to be king.” “my father is,” i said, anger rising in me, filling my eyes with tears that i would not shed. henry saw them, and he leaned over and took my hand. “as you say. your father is a good man, and a good king.” i knew that henry did not mean what he said, but i knew also that he did not mean to start a quarrel. i watched him, but his face betrayed nothing of his true thoughts. he might have contempt for my father, as the rest of europe did, for a pious man and a cuckold, but he needed the alliance with france, as france needed the alliance with him. it was that alliance i had given my life for. it was that alliance i would serve, even now. as a concession to show that i did not hold his lies against him, i smiled at him, distracted from all else around me. henry met my eyes, and i could see that he was as eager to be alone together as i was. bijou chose that moment to try to leap from my arms to his and i had to grab her before she fell. “lucky for your little dog, princess, we have not far to ride.” “lucky for me as well, my lord, for i feel the toll of riding horseback already.” henry smiled at me, and i saw in his eyes that his thoughts tended back to my bed. “you will find, alais, that you were born to be in the saddle.” i felt my face flush, but i did not look away from him. he had pitched his voice low, so that his men would not hear him. my lust rose, and i leaned closer to him, almost unseating myself from my horse. i did not care, though all the company watched us. i leaned as close to him as i dared, and he saw me do it. henry drew his horse near mine and kissed me. we stopped along the roadside at a pavilion down by the river that some of his men had ridden ahead of us to set up. there was a table and two chairs, and a feast of cold meats and cheese, fruit, and wine. henry brought me down off my horse himself, and kept my hand in his. “i am hungry, my lord. i am glad we stop to eat.” henry smiled, for he knew i was not hungry for food. he hoped as well as i did that we might find a quiet glen somewhere, a place to lie down on soft grass, so that he might have me in the open air. this knowledge did not show in his face, but only in his eyes. his voice was bland when he spoke to me, conscious of the men who were present. “the young are always hungry. and there are always dispatches to be signed.” he helped me to my chair, and as he seated me, his hand lingered on my back, and caressed my rump. i laughed and he kissed me, before he sat down beside me. the royal clerk stepped forward, and before henry broke his fast, he signed three scrolls in succession, reading them all before he signed. i watched him without touching the food before me. i knew better than to eat without his permission. bijou had no such scruples, and whined at my feet. i picked her up and stealthily fed her scraps of meat before setting her down once more. she wandered off into the tall grass, but always came back when i called her. i looked up to find myself alone with henry, his clerk gone, the dispatches carried away by courier in their wooden box. henry watched me as if he was thinking of something else. i wondered if he might take up a bit of bread, so that i, too, could eat. “alais, do you despise me?” “what, my lord?” i kept my face smooth, as eleanor had taught me. i leaned back in my chair, the soft river breeze on my face. “tell me, alais. i will not be angry. do you mourn the loss of your good name? your father’s honor?” the thought of my father was like poison in my blood, like a fire that burned behind my eyes, making tears come. i blinked so that they cleared away. my father would bless me when i accomplished what i had set out to do. i could not think of him until then. “no, my lord. i am not ashamed of us, or of anything we have done. what grieves me is the thought that war might come.” henry raised a grape to his lips. “war troubles you? what does a pampered princess know of war?” i took a deep breath to keep my temper. “i know what my father taught me,” i said. “if our treaty is to fail, if there is war again in france, the land will be plunged into darkness.” henry’s face grew grim. we had not spoken of the time before his reign, but the knowledge of it lay between us. he had been king for almost twenty years, and there were still parts of the realm that had not recovered from the fire of that civil war. there were villages razed to the ground that would never be peopled again. every man, woman, and child in those villages had been killed by stephen’s marauding armies. even i, foreigner that i was, knew that. “you fear for the land, alais?” “no, my lord. for the people who live on it.” henry did not speak for a time, but watched me as i ate. since he had begun to eat, i could as well.

i said a prayer as i ate, though i was outside of god’s grace, and unshriven for the sin of licentiousness. i prayed for the people under my father’s rule, that war would be kept from them, that our treaty would not come to nothing. i prayed that i was strong enough, as eleanor had taught me to be, to hold henry to it. “the queen causes strife among my sons.” i did not answer. between henry and richard, there was a great deal of rancor that had not begun with me. there was also a struggle for supremacy between henry and his eldest son. it had not occurred to me before, but now that henry pointed it out, i wondered. perhaps eleanor had a hand in that, too. “she keeps richard always in arms against me, fighting with me when he should be in the south, protecting our lands in france.” henry watched me, but my face revealed nothing. i allowed him to see my intelligence so that he would know i was not too simple to understand him, but that i kept my own counsel. he smiled, pleased with my self-control. “i have it on good authority that not only did eleanor watch while my eldest son and heir made an alliance with your father, but that she brokered the alliance herself.” a chill moved up my spine that had nothing to do with the afternoon breeze. here was my chance. i would bide my time, and then i would take it. “my lord, surely you are wrong.” “one of the horrors of being king, alais, is that i rarely am. especially when it comes to seeing treachery” i crossed myself against the evil he spoke. henry caught my hand, and held it in his. he looked at me, his gray eyes seeing me as if for the first time. “trust me, alais. trust me to find a way to keep the peace.” “how, my lord?” “let me think on it, and i will tell you.” i would let him think, and hope that he might draw his own conclusion without me having to lead him to it. i saw in that moment that henry remembered the words he had spoken to me by the riverside, when he had placed that crown of flowers on my head. it was all i could do not to crow in triumph. we might yet make a new treaty, one that would hold as long as we both should live. after we finished our picnic and rode on, i knew that i had the strength to draw henry where i wanted him to go, if he did not go there himself. perhaps we were more alike than i knew, for as i brought my horse alongside his, bijou in one arm, it seemed i saw my own thoughts in his eyes, mirrored back at me. but henry did not talk politics with me again that afternoon. he was attentive, and always watching me. he wanted me as much as i wanted him, but he did not reach for me, and his eyes held a calculating look. we rode into the gates of his hunting lodge at deptford before midafternoon. henry himself helped me down before sampson was led away. he did not leave me even then, but took me into his lodge himself, a rustic place even by english standards. i could see that eleanor had no power here, if she had ever been here at all. that was why he had brought me. henry kissed me and showed me the bed that i would sleep in. some woman had been there before us, for the room was clean if very plain, and the tapestries on the wall had been beaten so that there was very little dust. i looked at the bed, and crossed the room to open a window, letting bijou loose among the rushes. she loved playing in straw. eleanor did not keep rushes on the floor in the private rooms at court, so it was a new treat for my little dog. henry’s eyes were on me when i looked up from bijou’s antics. i thought he might cross the room and take me against the windowsill; his eyes were so full of fire. he did not approach me, though. “i will send wine and refreshment to you, alais. don’t eat too much, for you and i will dine alone tonight.” “and where is your room, my lord? will you send for me or must i come and find you?” the fire in his eyes warmed me where i stood. i felt my own lust rise unbidden. i had always thought of myself as a quiet, modest girl before i first met henry. eleanor had taught me my strength, but i was beginning to see that there was more to me than even she had dreamt of. “this is my room, alais. you will share it with me.” lust flamed in me when he said that, so that my legs weakened. i needed to sit down, but i stayed on my feet out of pride. i had not known what it was to want something as much as i wanted him. henry seemed to see this in my face, for he groaned and backed away from me. “i must go, alais, and arrange the hunt for the morrow, or neither of us will leave this room until past dawn.” i simply stared at him. “come back soon,” i said. he laughed, but i could see that his hunger for me was rising. he left without another word. i stood, breathing as hard as if i had taken a flight of stairs. i needed to have my wits about me, to ask the king for the boon i craved, to lead henry down the path that i would have him walk. i leaned my head against the stone casement of the window. i said a prayer, knowing that the holy mother would hear me, whether i was shriven or not. the cool stone soothed me like the touch of her hand, until i was calm again. i played with bijou on the floor as if i were a simple girl, a girl with no thought for tomorrow, an obedient woman who always did her duty. i was not the woman i had been raised to be. after an hour, i saw to it that the women of the house unpacked my trunk and hung up my clothes properly. there was no dressing room in those apartments, but there was a decent clothespress and the servants knew how to use it. this did not take long, for i had brought little. i wandered in the orchard near the house for a time, looking at the apples on the trees that had not yet turned ripe. bijou loved being outside, so we spent a pleasant hour under the trees, catching the scent of rain that soon would fall. i returned to the king’s rooms before long, and ordered bathwater brought to me. i was still drying off when henry came in, his movements quiet, as they always were. i knew that he was there only because the kitchen girl who helped me bathe stopped talking and knelt on the rushes by my bath. “you may leave us,” henry said. the girl ran out without a backward glance, and my hip bath and ewer were left standing in the middle of the room. i sighed, for i had grown used to the peaceful running of eleanor’s household. i was naked but for the sheet i was wrapped in, and henry scooped me up in his arms and carried me to the bed. “i’m still wet,” i told him, my heart racing. he did not answer me, but laid me down across the wool coverlet. at least i did not have to fear we would ruin it. it was the last coherent thought i had before his lips found mine. after henry brought me to the peak of pleasure, and followed me over the edge himself, we lay together, still tangled in my bath sheet. “i meant to tell you that dinner will be served in here,” he said. “you forgot to mention that, my lord.” he laughed and buried his face between my breasts. i stroked his hair, the strands of it soft between my fingers where the sun had lightened it. “they will bring us venison, and cheese,” he said, his voice muffled. i bent down and kissed his temple. he looked up at me and gave me the sweetest smile. “i’m glad that we’re here, your grace. i’m glad we’ve come.” he did not make a vulgar joke as i thought he might, but stared into my eyes. henry ran his fingers over the curls that covered my forehead. he leaned up and kissed my cheek. “i am glad as well, alais. we can be ourselves here, and have some peace.” he raised himself then, and i rose with him. i did not dress again, but only drew a shift on, so that he might still see my body in the firelight. even this distraction did not keep him from his evening meal. we sat alone, as he had promised. the cheese was soft and the deer meat well seasoned, just as he had said. i watched him, his eyes on me. i saw the wheels turning in his mind, and i knew it was time to speak, to take the next step on the road that had no turning. “henry, do you truly want peace?” his eyes measured me, taking me in. he swallowed the last bite of bread, and looked at me without blinking. i could see nothing of his thoughts on his face. “i have given my life to spread the king’s peace. you know that, alais.” “and i have given my life to keep the peace between england and france.” “until two nights ago,” he said. “no, my lord. what i did two nights ago, i did for france, as well as for myself.” i rose from my chair and knelt beside him, the rushes on the stone floor catching on the hem of my shift. i ignored them, and the fact that they pricked my heels and ankles. i met henry’s eyes, and he did not look away. “if eleanor breaks the peace, if she causes strife between you and your sons, why not put her away?” henry did not laugh at me as i had thought he might. his eyes did not leave mine. i knew then with complete certainty that he had been thinking along this line already. his idle statement by the riverside had not been mere fancy. i grew bolder. “as an abbess in a nunnery, eleanor could do little to foment rebellion. in the cloister, she would see no one, hear nothing. perhaps she might be at peace.” “there is peace only in the grave, alais, and you know it.” i saw then that he was testing me, wondering if i would call for her death. the pain of that thought pierced me like a lance in my side. i almost could not breathe. “dear god, your majesty. god forbid any harm should come to the queen.” i crossed myself, and prayed in truth, my hands clasped, though my rosary was far from me. i prayed for eleanor’s safety with no thought for my own. i prayed that she would be safe always. no matter what came between us, i loved her and i always would. henry saw my fear, and how deep it ran. he drew me onto his lap. he stroked my hair, and kissed me. “alais, i would never harm eleanor. you know that.” “i would never speak her name again,” i said. “i would go into a nunnery myself and never see the light of day before i would draw harm down on eleanor’s head.” henry stroked me, his hands on my body, but my lust did not rise, and his touch did not comfort me. “no, alais, i will keep you by me a while longer.” i clutched him, and he held me, his hands gentle on my body and on my hair. he did not move to take me, and i felt my fear receding. all was not yet lost. i loved eleanor, and i saw for the first time that henry did, too. perhaps we could speak together, and deal with one another, with this understanding between us. he kissed me, and i drew myself up, so that i might meet his eyes. i drew my fear back into my heart, for i was strong enough to bear it. henry saw this, and smiled. “you will make fine sons, alais,” he said. “god willing, your majesty, we will.” he stared at me, the smile fading from his face. his eyes were grave, but i saw at once that his thoughts had been tending this way, too. but he would not speak. he wanted to hear me give them voice. “your grace, i would be your wife. set eleanor aside, as she once set aside my father, and marry me.” henry looked at me for a long moment, drinking in the truth from my eyes. he pushed my curls back from my face, where they had fallen when i knelt to pray. he pressed his hand against my cheek and held it there. his voice was soft when he answered me. “you have ambition, then?” he asked. i met his eyes. i did not look away, not at the fire or at the floor. i did not dissemble, nor did i lie, just as i had promised him the night he first met me. from me, he would always have the truth. “only to serve you, my lord king. and our treaty. i wish to bind the peace for all time. i wish to serve you and this country, my father and france, all in one stroke. i would be your wife, obedient to your desires. i would keep my father in league with us, no matter what your sons wished to do in the future. i would stir up no trouble amongst your kin, but be a salve of peace over them.” “your son would never sit on the throne of england.” “i know that. god preserve henry and richard, geoffrey, and john into your old age, and beyond. put our sons in the church, or send them as diplomats to foreign courts, wherever you need them. i will raise them as i was raised, to serve my king. they will stand by you, henry, as i do. as i always will. i swear it.” “and eleanor would step aside? the most powerful woman in europe would take the veil, and step down for you?” “no, my lord king. she would be moved aside to keep the peace. eleanor loves this country, as you do. in the end, she will do what is best for the people.” henry did not share my confidence. i took his hand in mine, and kissed it, looking once more into his eyes. “she will step down because you tell her to. you are king.” “i will send her to the abbey at fontevrault. even eleanor will make little mischief there. i will set her aside, and we will have some peace.” speaking these words, he kissed me, drawing me close, lifting me as if i weighed nothing, as if i were a feather on the wind. he laid me down on his bed, on the sheets that smelled of apple orchards and summer sun. he pressed me back onto those sheets and entered my body almost without preamble, as if to seal the pact between us. i gasped under him, the motion of his body washing over me as the waves of the sea. the pleasure took me, but did not swamp my reason. i kept my eyes on his, and he kept his on mine as his own pleasure took him, and cast him down once more. he clung to me, and i to him. “alais, princess of france, will you stand with me against all others?” “henry of england, normandy, and anjou, i will stand with you, now and always, until i take my last breath on this earth.” he knew this was no idle oath. he knew it was not the aftermath of love play, nor the languor of love, that bade me speak. he saw the truth in my eyes, even as he stared down at me, and i saw the truth in his. whatever else came after, on that day we pledged ourselves, one to the other. on that day, he became my husband in truth in my own mind, if nowhere else on earth.