Free Four Sisters, All Queens by Sherry Jones Page B

diners, weary after days of travel and revelry, are dispersing. Marguerite nods to her uncles, across the room, talking together and glancing at her. Blanche speaks to Louis but Marguerite cannot hear her over the din. They pass through the great hall and up the stairs to the queen’s chambers, where Raimond of Toulouse awaits outside the door, flanked by palace guards.
    The White Queen greets her cousin with a kiss. “Your presence is not needed here,” she says to Marguerite. “I will have one of the guards show you to your chambers. I know how you love your sleep.”
    “But . . . I am the queen, ma mère . I would like to participate.” She hopes the quavering in her voice is not detectable. Blanchearches her brows at Louis: Do you see what I mean about her? He averts his gaze from Marguerite, refusing to meet her eyes.
    “These are delicate negotiations,” he says.
    “And I am your queen. I want to be included.”
    An uncomfortable silence follows.
    “Perhaps you can be of use to us,” Blanche says at last. “My cousin Toulouse says that your father has taken a number of French knights as hostages. He demands an exorbitant ransom for their release. How much influence can you wield with him?”
    “If Raimond of Toulouse will agree to stop attacking our castles, I think my father would reduce the ransom,” she says.
    “ Our castles? Is your allegiance yet with Provence, then?” The White Queen turns to Louis. “Do you agree with me now?” His gaze droops. “Louis, I will see you inside. Marguerite, enjoy your rest.”
    When she has gone, Marguerite knits her brows. “Am I Queen of France, or is she?”
    “It is . . . complicated. You would do well, I think, to avoid this meeting. Toulouse is temperamental and vindictive. One errant word from you might worsen matters—for all.”
    “But didn’t you marry me for my ties to Provence? Doesn’t your mother want an alliance with my father?”
    “That will come in time,” Louis said. “You must be patient. For now, it is best that you keep yourself apart from the situation. Mama and I must consider Toulouse’s proposal carefully and do what is best for France.”
    “What is he proposing? Some bold new plan for ruining my family, no doubt.”
    “I cannot discuss it with you now.” He holds both her hands. “Please, darling, wait for me in your chambers. The priests are blessing the nuptial bed even now, and I will join you soon.” He pecks her on the forehead with lips like a smooth stone, then steps into his mother’s chambers. Marguerite wants to follow, but a guard blocks her way. She heads into the great hall, where her uncles wait for the bed-blessing ceremony with several men:Odo, the abbot of St. Denis; the red-faced Count Enguerrand of Coucy, the noble she saw blowing his nose in the tablecloth during the wedding feast; Louis’s uncle Philip Hurepel, who once fought Blanche for the kingdom and lost; Thibaut of Champagne; and still others. Her uncles pull her aside.
    “Why aren’t you in the meeting with Toulouse?” Uncle Guillaume demands. “We hear he is plotting to invade Provence yet again, and with a greater force than before.”
    “Blanche barred me. She said my connections to Provence would upset the ‘delicate’ discussions.”
    “I knew it!” Thomas says. “Blanche will not give up her power so easily.”
    “You must be stronger, Margi,” Uncle Guillaume says. “Otherwise, we have married you to France in vain.”
    “I welcome your advice, Uncle. Or perhaps you would care to provide an example, and force your way into the meeting? It is taking place in the queen mother’s chambers.”
    Thomas grins. “Margi, you remind me more of your mother with each passing day.”
    “You have our sister’s wit,” Guillaume says, “but are you as discerning as she? How will Louis and Blanche respond to Toulouse’s request? How should they respond?”
    She ponders for a moment. “I think,” she says, hesitating, “that the