Page 117 of Raven's Rise
“It would be a mistake to miss this opportunity to advance your cause,” Cecily returned, taking Angelet’s hand. “Be bold.”
“I am not bold.”
“Then be strong. Whenever you fear you’ll fail, think of what you love and you’ll be able to go on.”
Angelet closed her eyes. Immediately she saw whom she loved. Henry, who needed to be removed from Otto’s control. Rafe, who needed to clear his reputation. If she could help either of them, she had to try. “I will do it,” she whispered.
“Good. Because we have arrived.”
The ladies were shown into a small receiving chamber that was grander than anything Angelet had seen in a private home. A massive fireplace dominated the space, and dark wood paneling covered the walls. The floor was covered with a plush carpet woven in a pattern based on some fantastical garden, and the chairs all had carved backs and velvet cushions. A round oak table with elaborately carved legs stood in the middle.
“All this wealth for one room of a castle the king only visits a few times a year,” Angelet said in awe.
“Royalty lives differently,” Cecily said, looking overwhelmed as well.
Then the door opened. A thin, rather pinched man came though, followed by a much larger, broad-shouldered man dressed like…a king.
Angelet gasped when she realized who stood in front of her. She dropped into a curtsey alongside Cecily. “Your Grace,” they both murmured.
“Rise, my ladies,” King Stephen said. “Which of you is Lady Angelet?”
“I am Angelet d’Hiver Yarborough, widow of Hubert.”
“That makes you Lady Cecily,” the king said, looking Cecily over. “Traveling in your condition, my lady? Please sit.”
“I thank you, your Grace.” Cecily sat down after the king did himself.
Angelet remained standing, still holding the altar cloth.
Stephen smiled at her. “I hear you bring a gift to me.” With a gesture, he invited her to put it on the table in front of him.
She unfolded the cloth so the scene it depicted faced the king. “I embroider, your grace, and I hope this work may please you. The scene is of a…dream I had.”
“A most beautiful dream,” Stephen said. He reached out to the cloth with a large hand more suited to battle than to art. Perhaps he came to the same conclusion, for he didn’t actually touch the cloth, though his fingers traced the lines of the gold castle and the twisting vines of the border. “I have been told, though, that your dreams are not just dreams, but visions.”
“So others say, your grace.”
The other man spoke for the first time. “So says Lord Otto, who reports that you fled away from the nunnery where you were meant to go, on account of your visions.” He did not smile. Possibly he never learned how, based on the way his face was lined. He looked hard at Angelet, as if she were a puzzle to figure out.
“This is Lord Drogo,” said the king, leaning back in his chair. “One of my most trusted advisors. At my request, he has been collecting the facts of the situation raised by Lord Otto and his son. He’s spoken to most of the people involved.”
“But not to me,” Angelet said, before realizing it sounded impertinent.
Drogo said, “I’ll correct that now. If his grace permits?”
Stephen waved a hand. “That’s what we’re here for.”
“And to that end,” Drogo said. “I would like you to explain, in detail, all that occurred from the moment you left Dryton to the moment you entered this room tonight. Leave nothing out, and speak only the truth. Fear not that you will suffer any repercussions from any man you may accuse. You are under royal protection now.”
She wasn’t sure who Drogo thought she was afraid of, but she suspected it was Rafe.
After looking at Cecily, who gave her an encouraging nod, Angelet related all she could, answering Drogo’s many questions. Several were sharply pointed, but she never caught herself in a lie—the only things she kept back were the intimacies she’d shared with Rafe, and the fact that she’d lost her heart to him. She knew well that those facts would be detrimental to her cause.
At times, Drogo or Stephen interrupted. The first was when Angelet was explaining how Otto removed Henry from Angelet’s care.
“Seems to me most cruel to tear the mother and her child away from each other, when she had nothing else,” Stephen said, watching Angelet closely.
Drogo disagreed. “It’s no odd thing to send a boy away for fostering.”
