The Autumn Throne (59 page)

‘I was your age when I became Queen of France,’ Alienor told the girls. ‘I had to leave my home in Poitiers and go to Paris with my Louis. I was a young girl just as you are, and just as your mother was when she came to Castile to marry your father.’

‘Were you afraid, Grandmère?’ Urraca asked, leaning forward a little.

‘Yes,’ Alienor said. ‘I felt like a straw on the flood because everything had happened so swiftly and the changes were so great, but I was excited too, and I was in love with my husband and thought we could rule the world. There are many things I wish I had known then, but they have only come with the wisdom of old age.’

A pink flush stained Urraca’s cheeks. Alienor could see that she was animated by the idea of young love. She turned to her mother, eyes bright. ‘Were you afraid when you went to marry Papa?’ she asked.

Dimples appeared in Leonora’s cheeks as she smiled. ‘A little, but it was more apprehension than fear. I knew the worst to expect and the best; your grandmother had prepared me well.’ She sent Alienor a warm, slightly rueful glance. ‘And I too loved my husband dearly.’

Blanca said thoughtfully, ‘What did you wish you had known, Grandmère?’

Alienor was delighted by Blanca’s perception. ‘That springtime does not last for ever and that the fine seasons should have their harvest gathered and stored against harsher times. That you should choose your battles wisely. You cannot fight everything and win. Sometimes the price of losing is beyond
what you can afford to pay, but that applies to winning as well.’ She narrowed her focus on the girls. ‘Be very careful and think before you act. Make friends with those who you know will stay true to you and reward them fittingly.’

Blanca nodded with parted lips, and Alienor could see her soaking up the wisdom like a plant absorbing nutrients and putting fresh growth into its leaves.

Their father, Alfonso, arrived to engage in a brief moment of conversation and fetch the women to dinner. He had a couple of squires with him in attendance, and Alienor noticed Urraca glance at the taller of the two. Her flush deepened and the young man returned her look and then dropped his gaze. Alienor put aside her sewing and, rising stiffly to her feet, gestured the handsome young squire to assist her to the great hall. As they walked, she gently questioned him, discovering that his name was Jaime and that his family had estates twenty miles outside Burgos. He was well-connected and stunningly handsome with brilliant dark eyes and a soft beard outlining a firm jawline. The sort to turn any young woman’s head, but no match for a Castilian princess.

At the table, Urraca sat one side of her and Blanca the other so that she could give both girls her scrutiny. Blanca was attentive, seeing that Alienor had everything she required and engaging in conversation, but at the same time was aware of her surroundings and directed her focus to peripheral matters too – qualities desirable in a queen. Urraca was more concerned with social display, and her conversation, although appropriate, lacked depth. While Blanca made a point of being solicitous to the other ladies at their table, Urraca had less awareness. She was the King’s daughter and that was sufficient. What more did she need to do? Jaime was serving at table, and when he stooped to arrange a dish or pour wine, she sent him coy glances, although they were quick and Alienor would not have noticed had she not been attuned.

Following the meal, the girls went to play a board game together in a window seat, leaving Alienor and Leonora to talk.

‘You
have two very beautiful and worthy daughters,’ Alienor said. ‘I am a very proud grandmother. You have done so well in raising them.’

Leonora looked satisfied. ‘I hope so. Urraca is becoming a lovely young woman. I do wish you could have met our eldest, before she went to her marriage. Our Berengaria would have loved to meet her famous grandmother.’

‘I am glad you said “famous” and not “infamous”.’

Leonora smiled and gestured the comment aside. ‘Mama, you inspire us all,’ she said; but then her expression grew sombre. ‘It is sad to have daughters leave the nest, greatly so – and also when you lose them. I have grieved for my siblings.’

‘Yes,’ Alienor replied, and for a moment mother and daughter shared mutual sorrow for the losses they had endured. Eventually Alienor drew a long breath. ‘The cracks in your heart never mend, but even so, your daughters have healed mine as far as anyone can, and Richenza has been a godsend. I am greatly blessed in my grandchildren.’

‘Indeed, Mama. My own heart will crack when Urraca goes to France, but it is such a great opportunity for her and I am glad that Louis is of a similar age. That eases me a little.’

Alienor drew back slightly. ‘I know you have always assumed Urraca would be the one to go, but I have to tell you, my dear, that I lean towards Blanca.’

Leonora’s fond expression froze and then changed into something set and imperious. ‘Of course Urraca must be the one to go. That is what is expected and why you told us you were coming. She is the oldest and it is only right that her turn comes first. We have prepared her trousseau with that in mind.’ Her gaze sharpened. ‘Has she done something to displease you, Mama?’ She glanced at the girls at their game.

‘Not in the least,’ Alienor replied swiftly. ‘They are both beautiful girls and I am as proud of them as you are, but I must be governed by which one will best suit the circumstances. Urraca is a regal and lovely young woman, but I think she may find it difficult to adapt to life at the French court.’

Leonora
said nothing, but her jaw tightened and she thrust out her chin.

‘Urraca may already have plans for herself anyway,’ Alienor continued. ‘If I were you, I would be careful about her relationships with certain young gentlemen of the court. Where looks have been cast, it may become more than looks in time.’

Leonora’s eyes flashed with anger. ‘My daughters are well brought up and chaste.’ Her voice was pitched low and did not carry but nevertheless was furious and to the point. ‘They know their place and what is expected of them and they will go to their marriage beds as virgins.’

Alienor inclined her head but did not back down. ‘You are a diligent mother, but still they may form attachments of the heart in a way that young girls are wont to do. Indeed, I wonder if Urraca has the best sort of focus for the task in hand.’ In the days since her arrival, Alienor had reached the conclusion that Urraca had a limited understanding of hearts and minds and the strategies to deal with them.

Leonora shook her head. ‘Mama, I am astonished you would consider not choosing Urraca. Everyone is expecting her to go as the bride of the prince of France – including the French themselves. What will they think when you present them with her younger sister?’

‘Nothing is cast in stone with the French.’ Alienor summoned her patience. ‘Only that the bride should be one of your daughters, and both girls are of marriageable age. Blanca sees more. She listens properly to what is being said and when she answers my questions her replies are fully considered and more than platitudes in order to please me. She speaks with honesty, but she is not foolish or senseless about it. She watches people and knows how to respond to them, whereas Urraca has less grasp of such skills even though she behaves in a noble and fitting manner. Blanca will cope with whatever is put before her.’

Leonora firmed her lips. ‘But Urraca is the older, and she has the comportment of a queen as you say. Why take Blanca
when Urraca is more ready to fledge the nest?’ She opened her hand towards her mother and there was hurt in her eyes. ‘Blanca still has time to grow in my tutelage, but not if you take her now. I was hoping that with Urraca wed, I could devote more time to Blanca’s education.’ Her expression hardened. ‘Have you considered what it will mean for me and Urraca? Matching her will be more difficult now. People will wonder why she has been passed over as Queen of France. They will wonder what was wrong with her that she was not chosen. What will they think of us? In effect you are devaluing my eldest daughter.’

Alienor reached out to Leonora, trying to be patient. ‘I am not doing this to make things more awkward. I know the French as you do not and I have met the prospective bridegroom. Blanca is the more suitable match, that is all, and I must do the best for the long term. Other more fitting matches will come for Urraca, I promise you.’

Leonora dug in her heels. ‘If you choose Urraca then you will be giving something to all of us, but if you continue with this decision to choose Blanca, you will be taking something very precious away.’

Leonora’s hurt was palpable, but although she understood it, Alienor was not prepared to change her mind; she knew her decision was the right one. ‘I am sorry,’ she said. ‘I have been charged with this duty and I must do what is best for the political weal of future generations, and I feel that Blanca has the necessary grasp.’

Leonora briefly closed her eyes. When she opened them again and looked at Alienor, her expression was resigned and cool. ‘I do not see it your way, Mama, but since you have been charged with the task, and from my brother, I am bound by your wishes.’

Alienor touched Leonora’s sleeve. ‘I do not want us to quarrel over this. If Urraca was the one best suited, I would have chosen her.’

‘Yes, I know,’ Leonora said woodenly, ‘and I wish that my elder daughter was that choice.’

Alienor
kissed Leonora and felt her resistance, but eventually Leonora softened and accepted the embrace, not wholeheartedly but at least in token. Alienor hoped the rest would come when she had had time to consider, for she was politically astute.

‘We shall need to make swift preparations for Blanca.’ A challenging look entered Leonora’s eyes. ‘Even if I yield to you in this, Blanca shall not have the jewels and gowns that were made for her sister.’

‘Indeed not. You may call upon my purse to ensure Blanca has everything she needs.’

Alienor glanced across at the girls who were still oblivious of their fate as they sat over their game of chess. They had been born to be pieces on a board, but whether pawns or queens depended on the skill with which they played the game, and how clever their opponents were. Urraca might indeed be a player as she matured, but Blanca already possessed that quality.

Two days later, Alienor sat with Blanca, watching her embroider a golden fleur-de-lys border onto a blue silk pouch she was making for Louis, her future husband.

‘You have a swift needle, my dear,’ Alienor said, ‘and some skill.’

Blanca flushed at the compliment. ‘It seems strange to be embroidering the arms of France instead of those of Castile.’ She rested her needle. ‘I wonder what life at the French court will be like.’

‘Different to what you know at the moment,’ Alienor said, ‘but there will be some similarities, and you will soon grow accustomed to your role. We can talk about it on the journey.’

The announcement to the girls had been made the same evening as the discussion between Alienor and Leonora, and the reason given for the choice was that Blanca was the younger and would more easily adjust, and her name was more suited to French adaptation. She would become Blanche. Urraca
had reacted with dignity, and although a few tears had been shed, Alienor suspected that her elder granddaughter was secretly relieved – and very pleased to receive a pet monkey with a jewelled collar in compensation.

Blanca had been surprised and shocked, but had rallied swiftly whatever her thoughts on the matter and Alienor had been pleased at her response which had served to confirm that she had made the right choice. Blanca was looking down now at the ring on her middle finger that Alienor had given her at the time of the announcement – an irregular sapphire edged with gold set between two creamy pearls.

Alienor said softly, ‘I have been watching you these past few weeks and I have seen that you know how to comport yourself in any situation and that your mind is sharp. You will be a great queen and a good one, the true line of your mother and grandmother; I recognise that in you. You are our hope for the future.’

Blanca nodded, her expression serious, but a gleam in her eyes. It was as though all the praise, information and advice Alienor was imparting to her was opening up wonderful new horizons, and while she was fearful, she was eager and excited too.

In mid-March, Alienor and Blanca set out from Burgos on their three-week journey to Bordeaux. Farewells had been said in private with tears and embraces, but in public the departure was formal but joyous with a great parade and fanfare to salute the company on its way. The packhorses were laden with gifts of silk and spices and the fragrant white
soap for which Castile was justly famed. There were caskets and boxes, and a priceless rock crystal flagon carved by Moorish craftsmen.

Blanca rode a coal-back palfrey led by a groom dressed in scarlet cloth. Alienor’s mount was a white Andalusian mare, a gift from Alfonso and Leonora. She had been offered a decorated litter but had politely refused. She might be fast approaching eighty years old but she had ridden here on horseback in the depths of winter and intended returning the same way in the first warmth of spring. She noted how well Blanca rode, confident and lithe in the saddle. Her smile for the crowds was natural, but not familiar; already she was projecting a queenly aura.