Free The Strangled Queen by Maurice Druon

a palace on the bay of Naples, whose fate had doubtless, all unknown to her, been decided that day. Monseigneur of Evreux always marvelled at the mysterious, unforeseen ways in which human destinies were forged.
    Because a great sovereign had died before his time, because a young king disliked leading a celibate life, because his uncle was impatient to satisfy his needs, because a name had been mentioned and remembered, a young fair-haired girl who perhaps, this very day, a thousand miles away, was beset with melancholy beside an eternally blue sea, thinking that nothing would ever happen to her, was suddenly fated to become the central preoccupation of the Court of France.
    Monseigneur of Evreux had a sudden attack of conscience.
    "Brother," he said to Valois, "do you really think that little Jeanne is a bastard? "
    "I am not certain of it today, Brother," said Valois, placing a ringed hand upon his shoulder. "But I can assure you that before long all the world will know that she is!"
    By this answer Monseigneur of Valois thought that he was momentarily serving his own interests; he did not know what the consequences of his attitude would be, that his, own son would owe to it the fact that one day he would become King of France.
    If Monseigneur, of Evreux had been able to look into the future some fifteen years, he would have found further reason for reflection.
    6. The Royal Bed
    MONUMENTAL, sculptured with heavy-winged symbolical figures, the royal bed filled a third of the room. The canopy, draped in dark blue samite embroidered with golden lilies, resembled a portion of the nocturnal firmament; and the curtains draped about the dais were like sails looped from their yards.
    The room, overwhelming in its silent, dark and reverential atmosphere, was lit only by an oil-burning night-light, placed in a rose-red lamp suspended by three chains from the ceiling; 10
    beneath the glow, the counterpane of gold brocade fell in stiff folds to the floor and seemed to shine with a strange phosphorescent light.
    For the last two hours Louis X had vainly sought sleep in the enormous bed which had been his father's. He felt stifled beneath the double fur, coverings, and shivered as soon as he dispensed, with them. Extreme fatigue causes insomnia, and insomnia ; is the cause of unhappiness. Though, Philip the Fair had died at Fontainebleu, Louis felt as uneasy at finding himself in this bed as if he were aware of the presence of the corpse in it.
    All the memories of the last few days, all the fears for the days, to come, were mingled in his mind. Someone shouted "Cuckold from the crowd'; Clemence of Hungary refused him, or perhaps was already affianced; the austere features of Abbot Egidius bent over the tomb; "From now on we shall say two prayers " "Do you know what she is counting on? She is hoping you will die before her!"
    He suddenly got up, his heart beating like a crazy clock. The palace doctor, who had examined him before he went to bed, ha d, assured him that his humours were not too heated and that he would have a good night. But Louis had not told him of the two moments of faintness he had felt a t Saint-Denis, the chill which had seized upon his limbs, and the way the crowd about him had seemed to reel. Now the same disquiet, to which he could, give no precise name, came upon him once more. Tortured by his fears, The Hutin, in a long white nightshirt, which seemed to float about a formless body, walked without respite round the room as if pursued by a doppelganger, as, if he must die at the least cessation of movement.
    Was he to die like his father, smitten in the head by the Hand of God? "I too," he thought aghast, "was prese nt when they burnt the Templars before the Palace." Can one ever know the night of one's death? Can one ever know the night one will go mad? And should he succeed in
    surviving this abominable night, should he see the lagging winter dawn, in what an appalling state of exhaustion he would have to preside