The closest Gerard had ever come to meeting a king was when he was on trial before the young boy-king, Richard, and his advisors. Gerard and his brothers had been falsely accused of treason and murder, and that had been the worst experience of his life, being judged guilty in the unfair trial.
He only hoped this meeting would be much better, and that Princess Elyce would get the help she needed.
But whether she did or not, Gerard would continue to help her in every way he could. He had promised Delia that he would, had he not? But there were other, stronger reasons for staying by her side that he would not examine.
Fifteen
Elyce’s hand trembled as she laid it on Sir Gerard’s arm. Although she felt it, she couldn’t see it shaking, and for that she said a silent, Thank You, God. She hoped King Wenceslaus would not see how nervous she was. But just having Sir Gerard with her—he always seemed so confident, his head always held high—made her able to take a deeper breath into her chest and let it out.
“Thank you for coming with me.”
“Of course.”
“Nothing ever seems to frighten you.”
“It is my duty to never be afraid. But I do not think the king will harm us today.”
“I am not afraid of him harming us.”
“Then what is the worst thing that can happen?”
“That he will refuse to help me. Or he will be angry that I defied my father’s wishes.”
“And if that happens, we will simply find another way to help your people.”
Her spirit lifted at his words. She gazed up at him as they walked. Truly, Delia’s brother was a most excellent man. Ysa thought she was foolish to think she was in love with him, but how could she not be?
Now was not the time to think about how tall he was beside her, how muscular his arm felt beneath her hand, how he did not seem the least bit intimidated by the prospect of meeting the King of Bohemia and Germany. He would be a good ally to present to the king, worthy and respectable.
She hadn’t planned, word for word, what she would say to the king, though she did have a list of things in her mind. Had she forgotten it all? A sudden wave of nervousness came over her.
“You look very beautiful.” Sir Gerard was gazing down at her. The look on his face made her feel warm inside.
“Thank you. The queen sent some of her servants to help me with my hair.” Her face heated. Would he think she was hinting for more compliments?
But he only smiled, a tiny lifting of his lips. “I wasn’t thinking of your hair, but it is also very beautiful.”
How could she not feel confident when he was saying these things and looking at her this way?
“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me and my people, Sir Gerard.” Her voice sounded breathless when she said his name. Were her feelings obvious? He was probably laughing at her affection for him. But she’d only thanked him. That was not an indication of her being in love with him, surely. But she could feel herself blushing. Did he notice?
This was ridiculous. She should be thinking about what she would say to the king. Would she even be able to speak once she was in front of him? But she had met this king before, with her father. That had gone smoothly. All would be well. She had met many people of royal and noble blood. This was no different. She was a king’s daughter, after all. She could do this. And Sir Gerard would be beside her.
Prague Castle was enormous, and it seemed they’d been walking forever when the guard who was leading the way finally came to a door and stopped.
“The king will be waiting for you inside. I shall give him your names—Elyce, Princess of Montciel, and Sir Gerard of Dericott, England. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
Elyce’s heart started thumping against her chest as the guard opened the door. They waited a few moments until they were summoned, then a deep voice said, “Her Grace, Elyce, Princess of Montciel, and Sir Gerard of Dericott, England.”
They walked slowly into the elaborately decorated room, across a smooth marble floor inlaid with colorful tiles and flanked by tall windows. At the end of the room was a man sitting on a throne.
The deep voice continued, “His Royal Majesty, King Wenceslaus, the King of Bohemia and the King of Germany.”
The king looked about the same as the last time she had seen him—brown hair; a young, masculine face with a full beard; neither smiling nor frowning, but with an intent look in his eyes.
Before they were quite thirty feet away, Elyce and Gerard stopped and bowed.
“Princess Elyce, I remember you. Sir Gerard. And who is your father?” He gave a quizzical look.
“The Earl of Dericott, Your Majesty.” Sir Gerard bowed his head respectfully.
“What brings you here to see me? Did your father not travel with you from Montciel?”
“No, Your Majesty,” Elyce answered. “I have come to ask for your help and favor on behalf of the people of Montciel.”
“Is your father not well?”
“He was well when I left him.” O God, help me! Her fears were coming true—that the king would scorn her for daring to run away from home and for not doing as she was told by her father. She tried to take a deep breath, but she could barely get the air past her constricted throat.
“Your Majesty, the truth is that King Claude of Valkenfeld has turned his people into slaves, forcing them to work in his mines, and he is doing the same to the people of Montciel. He has convinced my father to allow him to take our people from their sheepherding and their cheesemaking and their woodworking and put them to work in his mines.”
“You would say such things about your father?” King Wenceslaus’s voice rose, and he stared hard at her.
Elyce swallowed. “I am much grieved that my father has made such a close alliance with a king who is not leading his people the way a king should. I know you may think me strange to say such things, but I strive only to speak the truth.” Her cheeks were burning by the time she finished. Her very heart seemed to tremble inside her.
“I see.” The king continued staring at her, one fist on his hip as he sat leaning to one side on his cushioned throne.
“I only wish to protect my people and to save them from King Claude’s greed.”
“You were supposed to marry Claude’s nephew, I believe. Is this true?”
“Yes, Count Rodrigo, but we did not marry.”
He stared at her a bit more. Finally, he said, “It is very irregular for a daughter of a king to refuse to do as her father bids her, to refuse the husband he has contracted for her. You do understand that, do you not? My own sister, Anne, traveled to England to marry your king.” He nodded at Sir Gerard. “Can you imagine her telling me, her brother and guardian and the one negotiating the terms of her marriage, ‘I do not wish to marry the King of England’?”
Elyce’s cheeks burned hotter at his words. “I do understand your meaning and I agree, but that marriage was to secure an alliance between two great kings and their countries, for the peace and security of all the people. But my marriage to King Claude’s nephew would only be to subjugate me and my people to the tyranny of a king who has no one’s best interests at heart except his own—to increase the weight of his coffers.”