windsor castle september 1172 when henry and i returned to windsor at the beginning of september, the entire castle turned out to greet us. we had stayed away too long, happy together as henry had rarely been, even with rosamund. what that woman thought of our liaison, i had not heard. henry never spoke of her, and i knew better than to ask. but as happy as we had been together, we knew that we could not stay from court forever. eleanor waited for us, just as we waited for word from the pope. as we reached the castle gates, henry told me that eleanor still resided at windsor. i had no time to ask him why she had not gone on to the abbey of fontevrault, for the court had seen us then, and raised their cries of welcome. and still, i wondered why he had not done as he said he would. men-at-arms stood at attention, their pikes raised in salute to the king. ladies of the court stood in the mud of the bailey in jewel-colored dresses, their wimples snow-white against the castle’s gray stone. all the women held flowers. when i was taken down off my horse, one of them stepped forward, and laid a bunch of roses in my arms. the last of the summer roses, roses that bore no thorns. those flowers made me think of richard, and i had to breathe once, deeply, before i could put the thought of him away. and i saw the message for what it meant. i was a rose that now had been plucked, and some woman thought to mock me with it. it was a piece of cruelty worthy of eleanor. i looked for her in the crowd of women, but of course, she was not there. i searched the faces of the men for richard, but i did not find him, either. i turned my eyes on the crenellated windows of the women’s solar, and wondered if perhaps eleanor looked down on me. though richard was somewhere in the keep, he, too, was gone from me, as all my former life was, by my own choice. i pushed eleanor and richard from my thoughts, and took in the faces of those around me. i stood in the king’s bailey and was gracious to the same women who once had dismissed me as a pious and obedient lapdog of the queen. in spite of the mockery of the roses i held, i saw in the eyes of the women around me that they feared me a little, now that i had the ear of the king. false subservience shone in the faces of all who surrounded me. for the first time, the truth of what it would mean to be queen dawned in my mind. i would have to be careful, and guard against the sin of pride. i was used to patience and obedience, but i was not used to praise. even false praise was a heady wine, and could be my undoing. i thanked god henry had made me wear my best blue silk. i wore no wimple; my veil was held in place by the filet of golden fleurs-de-lys eleanor had given me. i took in the scent of red roses in my arms, trying to block out the thought of richard as i smiled on the woman who had given them to me. henry took my hand. as i turned to him, all thoughts of richard fled. i was enveloped by the touch of my lover, and the scent of sandalwood that clung to his clothes and perfumed his skin. henry smiled down at me, and for a moment, the rest of the court seemed to disappear. i raised my lips to his and he kissed me there in front of all the people. a cheer went up, and his men-at-arms called out his name. he waved to them, then smiled down once more on me. “my lady alais, i would present my son.” i blinked, my lips still warm from his kiss, and from the approbation of the court. never in my life had i been made so welcome. i knew that it was false warmth, but it warmed my soul just the same. once henry and i were married, and took the realm in hand, perhaps in time the warmth of the court would become real. henry raised one hand, and a boy not yet ten years old stepped forward out of the crowd. i had never seen him before, but he had the look of henry and eleanor both, and something else, something that belonged only to him. he bore a sense of his own worth that marked him at once as a prince. “alais, princess of france and countess of the vexin, i present john, prince of england.” i noticed that there was no other title behind the boy’s name, and i realized that this must be the famous john lackland, henry and eleanor’s youngest son. i knew that henry had once thought to put this boy into the church, and that even now young john spent most of his time in the abbey of fontevrault. a boy meant for the church had no need of lands, when his father might gift him with a bishopric, or better. as i looked into john’s eyes, i found myself doubting all i had heard. the shrewd gaze that stared back at me gave me pause. even as a child, this boy was a political animal. somehow i did not think the walls of a church would ever hold him, as they had once held me. the boy bowed to me, and smiled. i caught a hint of mischief in his gaze, and the sight of it made me long for eleanor. there was a touch of her green in the hazel depths of john’s slanted eyes. “good day, my lord prince. it is an honor to meet my future husband’s son.” john’s smile turned wicked. “indeed, princess, the honor is mine. it is not every day that a man is given a stepmother as beautiful as you are.” i laughed, for i was not his stepmother yet, and well he knew it, nor, for all his self-confidence, could he be considered a man. i saw that henry was not pleased with john’s honeyed answer. i pressed the king’s hand. “my lord, your youngest son has your charm.” henry’s face softened, as it often did now when he looked at me. “indeed, alais. too much charm for my peace.” the boy bowed low, as serious as in a church on sunday. “my lord, never on pain of death would i disturb the king’s peace.” though there was still a light in john’s eyes, i saw that he did not mock henry. the boy meant to offer his loyalty in front of all the court, child though he was, reminding everyone present of henry’s other sons who did not do the same. henry the younger, geoffrey, and richard were conspicuously absent, young henry in normandy, geoffrey in brittany, and richard hidden somewhere in the keep. all the court knew that henry’s sons did not support our alliance, except for john. henry looked down at his youngest son, and saw what i did. this boy, though young, would follow henry, while his other sons did not. henry clasped his shoulder. “let us go inside. the sun is setting, and it will soon be time to feast.” john looked at me. “i feast my eyes on the beauty of your lady, my lord. but a feast in the hall is also welcome.” henry laughed, drawing me close. “the princess is mine, son.” some women standing by had the gall to simper at the prince, as young as he was. he cast an appraising glance over them, taking them in as if he knew what lay beneath their gowns already. “my lord king, it would be my honor to escort the princess to her new rooms, if you will allow me.” henry kissed me once more as prince john took my hand. “look after her for me, johnny. i will see you both in the great hall in an hour’s time.” i curtsied, as if i did not think it foolish for a child to escort me into the keep. this boy was the only son loyal to henry, and i knew that made him precious, no matter what his age. john bowed, and henry walked into his keep,the rest of the court falling into step behind him. as i watched, his ministers stepped forward and began whispering to him. henry had kept the business of the kingdom with him at deptford, but it had not consumed him. now that he was back at court, it would become his focus, and i would fade into the background. for the first time since henry had aligned himself with me, i felt the sharp bite of fear as i watched him walk away. there was nothing to hold him to his pledge to me, nothing but his word, freely given, and one letter he had sent by dispatch to the pope. i remembered my father’s words about henry, words i had overheard once when i was a child. my father had said that henry would swear an oath before god one day, and break it the next. papa had told his courtier that henry was known for such throughout christendom. any treaty with him was worth less than the vellum it was written on. i wondered, standing in my lover’s bailey, why i had not remembered that before. and i wondered now if henry would break his word to me. john saw a shadow come over my eyes, and he smiled at me as he led me up the wide staircase to the castle’s upper levels. “don’t frown so, your grace. there are new rooms waiting for you. the king has been very solicitous on your behalf while you have been away.” “the king is good to me.” john raised one eyebrow, and for the first time i saw the light of skepticism reach his eyes, a perception that went far beyond his years. it was uncanny, that this boy saw so much, when at his age i had known nothing. what i knew now of politics, eleanor had taught me. i wondered, watching the prince, who had taught him. “indeed, princess. i am happy to hear it.” we came to a large set of double doors on a wide corridor that i had never walked down before. at our approach, the doors were thrown open and marie helene stepped out, bijou in her arms. she curtsied at once to john, who eyed her russet gown as if he was imagining all that lay beneath it. she did not take offense at his gaze, but she did not dismiss his interest as a child’s bravado, either. “my lad, i am glad you have returned.” “so am i.” i caressed bijou’s head. “has she behaved since they brought her up with the baggage?” marie helene’s lips quirked in a smile. “indeed, my lady. i have not yet set her down. your new rooms are quite fine, and i wanted you to see them first.” “ladies, i will leave you.” john smiled on us, then turned to me, taking my hand in his. “i will see you at the king’s table, princess.” “i look forward to it, my lord prince.” “call me john, your highness. i insist that beautiful women ignore my title, and smile on myself alone.” i wondered how a boy could have such a silver tongue. “thank you, john.” he bowed, taking in marie helene’s curves once more before he strolled away. “be on your guard with the prince, your highness,” marie helene said. “he is not as young in his mind as he is in his body” i kissed her cheek. “i must be on my guard always, marie helene, whoever i am speaking to. but i am glad i have you to remind me.” i took bijou in my arms, and stepped into my new rooms. those rooms were wide, with great glass windows that looked down on the bailey below. they were filled with beeswax candles, and the scent of wax mixed with the scent of clean herbs in the braziers. the great bed was covered in green silk, and heavy drapes of satin hung from the canopy. i saw at once that the drapes and bedclothes were new. i would thank henry for them at dinner. three large braziers stood, the scene of a deer hunt carved into the bronze of their bowls. between these braziers was the deepest tub i had ever seen, filled with water so hot, steam rose from it. two women stood beside it, their sleeves rolled up, ewers of water in their arms. one ewer held warm water and another cold, so that they could keep my bath comfortable while i sat in it. the tapestries on the walls depicted another deer hunt, and were beautifully rendered in brilliant colors, though i could not look on the final panel and still sleep. in it, a deer was impaled on a pike, then hoisted onto the back of a horse. the deer’s glassy eyes were rendered so well that it gave me pause. i moved to cross myself, but i was still holding bijou. “i have spoiled her,” i said. “she was with me all the time at deptford.” “you needed a friend in that place,” marie helene said. i saw the darkness in her eyes, and the set of her mouth. she could not continue to be surly, or henry would never let her stay. “marie helene, the king was there. he is my friend, as well as yours.” she did not answer, so i set bijou down and took her hand. “i love him. you will see. henry loves me, too.” “richard will be glad to hear of it.” eleanor stood in the wide doorway, two of her ladies flanking her. she raised one hand, and stepped into my rooms. the women closed the door behind her. but for the bathing women and marie helene, we were alone. eleanor was as beautiful as when i left her over a month before. any grief she felt over my betrayal had not shadowed her splendor. her eyes were undimmed; the beauty of their emerald light still beckoned me. my heart seized, and i had to breathe slow and deep. i loved her still. i turned to the women who stood by to tend my bath. “you may go,” i said. they set their ewers down, and left the room by a side door hidden behind a tapestry. marie helene made sure that the door was shut fast behind them. i took off the filet eleanor had given me, and drew my veil off. marie helene moved to my side to take them from me. i sat in one of the many chairs that graced my new rooms. the pillows in each chair were plump and beautifully embroidered with scenes of the hunt. “welcome, your majesty,” i said. “can we offer you some watered wine?” eleanor laughed as she stood by the outer door. the sound was beautiful, as beautiful as it had ever been, before i knew of her betrayal, before i had betrayed her myself. soon, henry and i would hear from the pope. henry would be granted an annulment, and eleanor would retire to a nunnery i would become the king’s lawful wife. i had begun to learn a new thing while at deptford, something eleanor had never taught me: the law was what the king said it was. “you are making yourself at home here, i see,” eleanor said as she stepped into the room. she did not sit with me. marie helene poured two goblets of wine, the first one for me, which she set by my elbow. after i had drunk, marie helene brought another golden goblet to the queen. eleanor took it from her, and held it up in the firelight. “it would seem that these, too, are mine.” eleanor drank the wine that henry had ordered for me from anjou before she set the goblet down on a small table near the bed. she took in the giant bed frame with its elaborate draperies and dark wood. she eyed it for a long moment. if i had not known her better, i would have thought she was amused. “richard was conceived in that bed,” she said. “i had almost forgotten.” though hearing richard’s name on her lips pained me, my anger began to rise as well. she planted the seeds of dissent and war among her sons, and hoped to plant them now in me. in the end, she would see reason, and let the king go. i did not answer her, but took another sip of my wine. “these rooms were mine, you see,” she said. “once, long ago.” eleanor strolled through my new rooms, taking in the sight of the new tapestries, the new bedding, the gold plate on the sideboard. there was a large oak table in the center of the room, surrounded by braziers. it would be the perfect spot for private suppers with the king. she stopped near my chair, and bijou came to her at once, sniffing around the edges of her gown. i smiled, my dignity lost, and scooped up my wayward puppy.“pardon bijou, your majesty she does not know her manners. she takes everyone for a friend.” “as you used to, alais” “indeed, your majesty i did.” eleanor sighed and sat down. i looked to marie helene and she went at once to fetch the queen’s cup of wine from across the room. she set it on the table at the queen’s elbow, as she had set down mine. eleanor saw that i gave this order without speaking, and that marie helene obeyed in the same instant. she knew us both well enough to see behind the ruse. we meant to show her that i was queen in these rooms, as i would one day be queen in england. the light of admiration came into her eyes, and she smiled at me. “princess, how far you have risen.” “indeed, your majesty. i will one day be a queen.” eleanor barked with laughter, the music of her mirth filling my rooms so that bijou wagged her tail. but i did not smile, nor did marie helene. we knew that she was laughing at me. “alais, forgive me.” eleanor wiped tears of mirth from her eyes and sat back in her chair, her wine untouched beside her. “i think of you as louis’ daughter, and he could never stand up to me. i forget that you had a mother. you must have gotten your strength from her.” neither of us spoke of the deeper truth that lay between us: she had been both my mother and my father for the last few years of my life. and now, as i looked at the woman i loved more than anyone else on earth, i saw only my enemy. “so you have taken my rooms, and scheme now to take my crown.” “i do not scheme, your majesty.” “oh, no, not you, alais. it would be beneath your father’s honor, would it not?” i kept my tone low, my voice even. “your majesty, i want only for there to be peace between the king and his sons.” eleanor was on her feet in an instant, the fury she had been holding back flashing in her eyes, and raining from her tongue. “how dare you sit in my rooms, drink my wine, and name my sons to me?” i stood and faced her. my voice was calm when i answered her, the ice of my own pain behind my eyes. “your majesty, you would do the realm a service by stepping aside. once you have taken the veil, your sons will abide by their father’s rule. plantagenet lands will be at peace, in england and on the continent, and this strife will end as if it had never been.” eleanor’s eyes glittered with malice. never before had she turned such a face on me. it was like a dagger in my heart to see her fury directed at me. but she had helped me make this bed, with her own lies and treachery. now we would both lie in it. “you are a fool, alais. as big a fool as your father ever was. henry has fed you a pack of lies, and you have swallowed them whole. god help you when you see it.” my own fury rose to meet hers, and now i welcomed it. i had made a play for the throne, and i would take it. i would preserve the treaty with france, and remake my life. eleanor would have to move out of my way “what i see, your majesty, is that you will step aside and take up the position as abbess at fontevrault. what i see is that there will be peace between the king and his sons.” eleanor turned on me, but i stood my ground. in these rooms, and in henry’s court, i was now her equal. “hear this, alais, for i will only say it once. i will never take the veil. not now, not thirty years from now. i am queen in these lands. no decree from the king, and no prayers from you, will make it otherwise.” eleanor moved to the outer door. her women must have heard her steps, for they opened my doors from the corridor, so that she stood framed in my doorway. she turned back and raised her voice, so that anyone in the corridor might hear. “do you really think you can defeat me, alais? even now, have you no idea who i am?” all my doubts of henry were buried now in my anger at eleanor. i crossed the room until i, too, could be heard in the corridor. when i spoke, my voice was strong. i did not hesitate to strike for blood, knowing that i would draw it. “your majesty, it is not i who fights you. it is the king. and he always wins.” eleanor stared at me, the color draining from her face. the only color left beneath her wimple was the green of her glittering eyes. her women stepped forward, and took her arms. if they had not come to support her, eleanor might have fallen. it was the sharpest pain of my life, to see her brought so low. but there was triumph in that moment, too. she had used me as one more pawn on her chessboard, when i had done nothing but love her. if i had wanted revenge for her treachery in turning my letter over to the king, for the deception of her son, i had it then. i stood in silence as her women met my eyes. they curtsied to me, before they led her away