The King's Artist

Ch 70: The French Court

It came as no surprise to any of them that the French court was expecting them. A group of soldiers awaited them outside and immediately unburdened the group of their horses and bags. They were required to relinquish their weapons, too, which set Adelaide's nerves on edge. The French had no reason to fear them, but the same could not be said in reverse. There was no way of knowing whether or not King Charles VIII and his sister were going to honor their agreement. After all, it was possible that they'd choose to turn Henry over themselves in order to restore balance to their country.

Adelaide forced her gaze not to wander as they entered the castle. She was positioned to Henry's left, Jasper to his right, with the remaining soldiers trailing close behind. The stone halls were cold and their footsteps echoed loudly around them as they walked.

When the grand doorways leading into the King's court were opened, Adelaide stifled a gasp.

Though the architecture of the room was impressive, with high ceilings and intricate carvings, it was the sheer number of people in attendance that baffled her.

There were nobles and royals of all shapes and colors, adorned in their finest, most lavishes clothes. Men and women alike stilled their conversations simultaneously as they turned to address those who'd joined their company. Adelaide felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end at the scrutiny that befell them.

But despite the tension, amongst the jewels and the wealth and the power that the room emitted, Adeliade couldn't help but think how much Henry looked like he belonged.

It was clear she wasn't the only one who thoughts so, either.

As Henry moved confidently through the mass of bodies, they parted for him like water around a stone. Their eyes hungrily devoured him, scrutinizing and absorbing every bat of an eyelash and every twitch of a finger. Everything from his posture to his demeanor screamed royalty and demanded respect, and they were enthralled.

"Henry Tudor," a boy greeted as they stopped at the bottom steps of a dais. Adelaide and the others bowed low before raising their eyes to the monarch of France.

King Charles VIII was still a boy, just as Henry had told Adelaide he was. He had a long nose, small lips, and dark hair, and Adelaide couldn't help the cruel thought slip through that he was rather average-looking. He bordered on boring, the most impressive thing about him being the kingly robe he adorned and the crown atop his head.

His sister Anne de Beaujeu, who stood to the right of his throne, was another story.

Everything about her appeared calculative. She had stern, clear brown eyes, highlighted by a high forehead and dark-haired widows peak. Her posture was as straight as a lance, and her mouth pursed between welcoming and warning. It was clear she was still undecided about what to do with them and this current predicament. Adelaide had no doubt from the glint in her eyes that if she deemed Henry more dangerous than Richard this negotiation was going to go in a very different direction.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Henry Tudor," Anne said smiling somewhat stiffly down at them. "Would you be opposed to a private discussion between the five of us?" She motioned between her, her brother, a man behind her who Adelaide assumed was her husband, and Henry and Jasper.

Henry returned the pleasantries and nodded. Before Adelaide could even make brief eye contact, they were gone through a door at the back of the room.

Adelaide exchanged a nervous look with Kayden as chatter gradually filtered back into the crowd. She could feel the others shifting uncomfortably behind her as a few people approached them apprehensively.

Naturally, Marcus was the first to break the awkward stalemate. And of course, it was by flirting with a few of the nearby court ladies. They clearly enjoyed the attention, too. They batted their eyes dramatically and giggled behind their hands at his coy words and devilish smirk.

Theodore followed suit and before long they were all engaged in conversation. Everyone except Adelaide. She continued staring at the doors with her hands clenched tight.

"They probably won't finished for a while," a man said from behind her. A brief glance to her side revealed the speaker to be a young man about her age, maybe slightly younger. He was handsome with an appearance particularly indecisive in its coloring. His hair couldn't seem to pick between being blonde or brown just as his eyes couldn't settle on whether they were blue or green. He stood a couple inches taller than her and his frame was thin and soft enough that it was clear he was no solider. Nobleman than? Some other court offical perhaps? 

"Sir Arthur Dedrick," Adelaide greeted, stepping back and bowing to the man. He returned the gesture with a kind smile and shinning eyes. 

"Jean de Paris," he said straightening. 

"Pleasure to meet you," she said vaguely as her attention drifted back to the doors. She knew she was being rude, but she couldn't help her anxiety from grabbing the majority of her focus. She worked nervously at her lower lip and tried not to fidget, though she was certain she was failing. She was acting like an overprotective mother and that needed to stop. Now. 

"So you are one of Henry Tudors knights?" Jean tried again, clearly determined to engage her in some semblance of a discussion. Forcing herself not to sigh in frustration, Adelaide glanced at him briefly and nodded. 

"I will be officially once he takes the English throne." Since Henry was not yet a monarch and had no wealth or land as a Lord, Adelaide was a knight in a meaningless-title-sort-of-way. It was a position that was expected to be formally bestowed upon her once he was crowned, but as for the moment, she was technically a common solider just like the others. "And what about you?" She found herself asking, forcing herself to be polite. "What brings you to the French court?"

"I'm a portraitist." 

And just like that, for the first time in what felt like forever, something broke into the haze of anxiety swarming Adelaide's mind. 

"You're an artist?" Jean seemed to notice the change in her timber because his spine straightened and his eyes brightened just the fairest amount. 

"I am. I used to be a court painter to the Bourbons, but it's been sometime time since I started working for King Charles," he nodded with a large smile. "And from your tone it seems you share a similar interest in the arts?" 

Adelaide laughed a little as she nodded. 

"I would be more than willing to show you some of my pieces if you'd like." 

So, with a last glance at the doors and a quick exchange with Kayden, Adelaide found herself nodding, turning back to Jean and saying, "lead the way."