Winchester Castle May 1172 “Your Majesty¹,” my spy said. “There is news.” I suppressed my smile, for he would not have sought me out otherwise. My women were already dismissed. I raised a bell to call Richard’s page to me, that he might deliver a message of my own. I lowered my hand, and the bell stayed silent on its stand. My man knew better than to keep me waiting. “Your Majesty, the prince has been seen in the rose garden.” Why this was deemed important by the network of men I kept was beyond me. I held my patience, and waited to see if this was a fool’s errand, or if something was afoot. “The princess is with him,” he said. I did not respond, but took this information in. I remembered how Richard and Alais had watched each other the night before, how he had sung to her in front of the court, as he once would have done for me. It was as if my son had never seen a woman before, as if his other lovers had never existed for him. I, of course, knew better. When I did not speak, my man’s voice went on, low in my ear. “He was with the Princess Alais, Your Majesty. And in the kitchen garden, too.” I laughed out loud at that, the thought of my son following a skirt into the bowels² of the servants’ quarters. My man looked shocked at my levity³, and I calmed myself. Fools very seldom laugh, and they seldom tolerate laughter in others. I did not pay this man for his mind, but for his information. “I thank you,” I said. He blushed, and lowered his head almost to the floor in supplication⁴. I never offered thanks to my men, only gold. He knew then how valuable his information was to me, or at least, how valuable I meant it to seem. I raised one hand and rang my bell. Amaria came forward at once from a hidden door, where I had kept her waiting once my other women had gone. She knelt to me, too, and offered her hand. I took it, as a sign of favor, before I spoke⁵. “Pay this man in gold, double the usual fee. Then send Richard’s page to me.” “Yes, Your Majesty” Amaria bowed, and took my man out of the solar the way she had come. I had not long to wait, for Richard’s page came almost at once, as if I had spirited him there myself. I was gratified to see that my network was quick as well as silent. Soon I would need to call my women back to sit with me; I had been alone too long already. When Richard’s page came in, he found me kneeling at the window, as I had seen Alais do in her own rooms. I knew the picture was a pretty one, my slender figure in cloth of gold, kneeling before God in the sunlight. The boy did not have to know that the gold

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