His bejeweled hand waves me to my feet.
“You wished to speak with me?” I have decided to act as if I am unaware of what is going on, instinct telling me it is the least threatening way to present myself to the king.
“As you may have heard, your brother has claimed you and your sisters should be in his care, not serving the queen. I am committed to putting forth the crown’s justice, but to do that I must hear all sides before making a decision. Monsieur Fremin, you may go first.” He turns to the lawyer expectantly.
“The matter is simple, Your Majesty. The Lady Sybella, Lord d’Albret’s sister—”
The king holds up a hand. “I thought she was the Lord of d’Albret’s daughter.”
The lawyer nods. “I’m afraid her father has taken a mortal wound and has not regained consciousness in nearly a year. The duties and responsibilities of overseeing the family and its holdings have fallen to Pierre, the eldest surviving son.”
The word surviving cuts deep. Julian. Would the lessons he learned at the end have made him a better overseer of the d’Albret domain than Pierre?
“I am sorry to hear of Lord d’Albret’s injuries and will pray to God that he is healed soon.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” The lawyer almost succeeds in keeping the impatience out of his voice. “During the fall of Nantes, the Lady Sybella took her sisters from her father’s custody and brought them to Rennes.”
“Where she served the duchess,” the king interjects.
“That is what we have been told, Your Majesty, but we have no way to confirm that.”
“I am confirming that.” The king’s voice is brusque and dismissive.
“But of course, Your Majesty. Nevertheless, the Lady Sybella did not have her father’s or brother’s permission to leave their custody, nor did she have permission to remove her sisters from their care.”
“Why did she do so?” The question comes from the regent.
“We do not know, Madame Regent. Lord d’Albret is most anxious to ask her that same question.”
“Could it be,” the king offers, “that she thought it a great honor to serve their duchess?”
There is a warning note in the king’s voice, but the lawyer is not perceptive enough to hear it.
“Surely that is for their father or brother to decide, not the Lady Sybella.”
There is silence as the king eyes the lawyer with displeasure before he turns to me. “Lady Sybella. How do you address these charges?”
“Charges, Your Majesty?” My heart sinks like a dropped stone. I am not here to make my case but to address charges?
“Your brother claims that you took your sisters from his home without his permission. Is that true?”
I fold my hands demurely in front of me. “No, Your Majesty. I did indeed have permission. It was given to me by my brother Julian, who was the eldest surviving son at that time.”
The lawyer all but rolls his eyes, as if I am some imbecile they must indulge. “But, Your Majesty, why would this brother give such permission? It makes no sense to send two young girls off on their own with no escort save an elder sister.”
The king indicates I may speak. “Your Majesty, it was a time of great political upheaval and confusion. D’Albret had unlawfully taken the city of Nantes from the duchess by force. As you must know, any city under threat of siege is not a safe place for young women.”
“That is true,” the king concedes.
“But your father was the one in command,” the regent points out.
“Yes, Madame, but everyone knows how difficult it is to control men when they are in battle, how unsafe the cities are, especially to the innocent. For our safety, my lord brother instructed me and my sisters to leave. Unfortunately, both my father and Pierre were absent.”
The lawyer sighs. “Where did they go, pray tell, with an entire city to put to order?”
I turn to look at him for the first time. “They were in negotiation with the regent on the terms for handing Nantes over to the approaching French army. Which,” I point out, “would have made it even more unsafe for my sisters.”
There is a long moment of silence at the stark reminder of the d’Albret family’s stunning lack of honor, for all that it had turned the tide to the crown. The king’s chin rests in one hand while he taps his fingers on the arm of his chair. He turns toward his sister. “Is this true? Did you meet with d’Albret outside the city of Nantes prior to us taking it?”
He did not know! He thought the city simply had bowed before him, pleased to receive him as their king. Which was true enough after d’Albret’s brutal reign, but startling nonetheless that he was not in on the plans.
The regent does not so much as squirm in discomfort. Truly, her nerves are forged of iron. “I thought it wise to test the waters and do what we could to assure a peaceful transition. It would do no good to any of us to raze Nantes to the ground as we fought over it.”
He says nothing, but considers her coldly, the tapping of his fingers growing more pronounced.
“Your Majesty? If I may?” I use my most humble and self-deprecating manner, which is rewarded by an indication that I may speak. “Count d’Albret was a great soldier and lord, but he had little interest in his daughters. I was only too glad to relieve the men in my family of those duties so they might better concentrate on matters of state. Surely that is what any dutiful daughter should do to ease her liege’s burdens?”
The king’s face relaxes, almost into a smile. This is the sort of motivation he can accept from a woman. Motivation that does not threaten his own sense of power. One that supports, rather than transplants. “Indeed, Lady Sybella. Would that all sisters chose to see to their brother’s needs in so humble a manner.”
I silently cringe, not intending my words to be a weapon against the regent—not while she still holds so many threads of power. I was merely trying to assure him that I was a model of feminine humility.
The regent uncoils from her place behind the king, coming out to walk in front of me. “I am not at all convinced you are a suitable model for two young girls. One of the soldiers says he saw you drinking and gambling with the guards the night of the wedding.”
My heart sinks again, and I curse my own foolish temper. “I fear your soldier is mistaken, Madame. Indeed, I spent the entire evening with the queen.”
The king frowns, and the regent barks out a laugh. “In case you forget, there is a witness to the queen’s activities that evening.”
“Many witnesses,” I agree. “But as I am certain your witness will attest, he was only with the queen a short time. As soon as he left, I arrived in her chambers to attend upon her. You may call her in and ask her. Or ask any of the ladies you assigned to her that night. They can also attest to my arrival.