Chapter 286: A Witness Was Questioned
"A witness was questioned. Her maid Elodie confessed that the princess’s former maid was ordered to smother the boy while the guards were distracted with the princess. It was the reason for the maid’s suicide," Lord Langford explained calmly.
"Your Majesty," Theodora said, her voice carefully lowered, "I cannot begin to imagine the depth of your pain, but you must consider the outcome."
Theodora had chosen the wrong words.
"Consider the outcome," he repeated.
"France will not receive this quietly."
"It is not your place to advise me on how to rule the realm, Mother."
The word Mother came out with more contempt than affection. Theodora heard it. Everyone heard it.
"You are here for one reason only," Henry continued. "You will see the lengths I am willing to go to when those I love are harmed." He turned to the headsman. "Proceed."
A silence fell over the green. Madeleine drew herself up as far as her bonds allowed. Whatever else she had been, she was determined to remain a princess until the end. She did not weep. She did not beg. She had been too long confined.
Two men guided her forward. Her knees met the platform. Madeleine’s mouth trembled as the block came before her.
She was forced to bow over it. Her cheek touched the grain. Her hands were untied and held firmly on either side.
The Lord Chancellor stood a little behind the king, his stomach twisting. He had drafted the warrant. He had reviewed the confession. He had approved the legal machinery, because murder of the king’s acknowledged son could not be allowed to pass. Yet watching the law become an axe had a way of making even the most necessary justice look barbaric.
The headsman raised the axe. Madeleine closed her eyes. Henry gave one final nod. The axe fell.
Theodora stood as still as carved stone, but her face had gone pale. Henry turned to her.
"Tread carefully, Mother," he said. "I am determined to make you the next. Now get the hell out of my palace." He walked away from the scaffold.
Lord Langford and Lionel followed him at once. Henry crossed the yard with a hard, even stride.
They passed through the inner court and into the palace corridor. As they neared the council chamber, Geoffrey slowed.
"My lord?"
Henry kept walking.
"Your Majesty," Geoffrey called more firmly.
Henry stopped and turned.
Geoffrey gestured towards the chamber doors. "Council."
Henry stared at the doors. "I have other things to do."
"There are matters that cannot wait," Geoffrey said. "Lord Ashcroft’s situation must be clarified before rumour grows fangs. And there is another matter."
Henry’s patience thinned visibly. "What matter?"
Geoffrey lowered his voice slightly. "I received a response from Florence while you were away."
Henry stepped back towards Geoffrey.
"The Florentine ruler requests an audience with you. He wishes to offer formal apologies and assure you that the assassination attempt had nothing to do with his government."
"Have you responded?" Henry asked.
"No, Your Majesty," Geoffrey said. "I was waiting for your return."
"Invite him."
"I want to look him in the eye when he sees who Livia is," Henry continued. "If he sent the assassin after her, he will know her face."
Geoffrey folded his hands. "I shall send the invitation immediately."
"Good. If they had no hand in it, they may keep their heads."
Geoffrey bowed his head. "As you command."
"How long before France receives word of Madeleine’s execution?" Henry asked.
"With fast riders and ships, they may hear the first rumours within days. Formal notice will take longer. We should know within a fortnight whether they intend to answer."
Henry nodded once, turned, and continued down the corridor. He walked out of the palace. Lionel followed at his side.
"Your Majesty, shall I summon the carriage?"
"No. I would like to ride."
Lionel signalled at once to the guards. Soon, Henry’s horse was brought forward. The animal was a powerful dark bay, restless beneath the hands of the groom. Lionel’s mount was led out beside it. Around them, the escort formed, men placed ahead, behind, and to the flanks.
Henry took the reins and mounted. He did it smoothly, despite the exhaustion in his body. Lionel mounted after him.
He glanced at the escort and gave their positions. The guards obeyed. Lionel drew his horse level with Henry’s. "Where are we headed, sire?"
"The Cresswels."
"Of course."
Naturally, Henry would want to pay his respects. Bella had been buried before he returned. She had been more than a former favourite.
They passed through the outer gate and into the streets. People bowed or stepped aside. Henry noticed very little. Lionel rode beside him in silence. They rode until the noise of the city thinned and the Cresswel estate came into view.
It was not grand enough to rival the great houses of the realm, but it was old and dignified. The drive curved between winter-bare trees and clipped hedges.
The moment the king entered the estate, a messenger ran ahead to alert the household. Henry dismounted before the groom could reach him.
Lionel dismounted as well and handed his reins to a guard. The front doors opened. Lord Cresswel hurried out.
He stopped short, then bowed deeply. "Your Majesty!"
"My apologies, Lord Cresswel," Henry said. "I was absent when everything happened. Had I been in England, I would have come."
Lord Cresswel bowed his head. "Your Majesty, I would never hold such a thing against you. Her Grace the Queen Mother informed us you were away from court."
Henry drew a breath. "I came to pay my final respects."
"Of course, Your Majesty. Of course." Lord Cresswel turned at once and led the way across the estate grounds.
The path to Bella’s resting place wound beyond the house. Bella’s grave was fresh. The earth had not yet settled. Flowers lay near the stone, some beginning to wilt at the edges. A simple cross marked the place for now, with her name written.
Henry stopped before it. For a moment, he could not speak. Lord Cresswel stood a few paces behind him. Lionel remained farther back, pale with the guilt he still carried. "Would you give me a minute?" Henry asked.