The Fearless Princess (Forgotten Royals)

Chapter Twenty-Four

1364

"You're taking more risks."

"It's Twelfth Night." I kissed Enguerrand and rested my head on his bare chest. "We are all a bit lax and must seek confession soon."

In my bed together, we defied the tiresome rules. Almost two years since the tournament, we couldn't stay away from each other. At every chance, we were together. We still tried to be as discreet as possible, but there were few who could scold us. Mama suffered from health problems and was no longer the forceful queen who could command her children. A few months ago, Edward and Joan finally left for Aquitaine. Papa, burdened with the kingdom and growing older, no longer questioned me. None of my younger brothers dared rebuke me after I handled Edmund.

Enguerrand sat up, but didn't push me aside. Instead, he held me closer, his warmth keeping away the January chill. "The King will be here soon."

He didn't mean my father. "I know."

Joy drained from me. Because of France's sluggish attempts to pay their king's ransom, the noble King John felt like the only thing he could do was return to England as a hostage. Raised among some of the most honorable men in the world, this act left me at a loss. I couldn't understand why he would put himself in the hands of the enemy.

There was something else that made me fret. With King John returning, there would be no point in Enguerrand staying in England. The French hostages should be able to return to their land. Our time together could be ending.

"Will you be pleased to see him?" I asked, determined not to show my worries.

Enguerrand stroked my hair. "Not here. I stayed so long so that he could rule our kingdom as he should. It feels like I failed him."

"You weren't the one who refused to pay the ransom," I said.

"Don't you know things like logic have no place in a knight's mind?" he said in a teasing way. "Mon Dieu, I know there was nothing I could have done. But he is my king and I hate that he must be a captive again."

It would probably be too logical to point out that the king would hardly be a prisoner. My father was already planning days of celebrations for him. It was a chance to show the graciousness of the King of England. I lowered my head so Enguerrand wouldn't see a surge of pride for my father. If Papa were a more selfish or callous king, King John would probably balk at returning, even if he was so honorable. The world would once again know that my father was the greatest king since Arthur.

"Isn't this good news for you?" I pushed past my fears of losing him. "Doesn't this mean you will be allowed to go home?"

He missed his home more than he ever admitted. Sometimes when we were alone, he would describe his castle and lands with such reverence. He often kept up a merry face for court, but often I caught a sadness in his eyes.

Enguerrand let out a pained sigh. "Not right away. I am not about to forsake my king. If he has need of me, I will be there for him."

"If he doesn't, you will go?" I asked in an even tone.

Part of me wanted to ask if he might stay for another reason, if he might stay for me. But that would be selfish. He had been in England for over three years. I couldn't be the reason he stayed.

"I can do more good in France," he said. "I also need to get back to my estates. I've left everything for too long."

Sorrow rose in me, but I crushed it back down. I wanted him to be happy. Even if that meant he would be out of my life. "Then I pray your king will send you back."