Page 98 of A Most Forgettable Girl

“Were you anticipating a written invitation?” the other snapped. “If you wish to attend the Queen, you must first show willingness by turning up promptly to partake of those duties.”

Gunnilde considered this a moment. “That is interesting advice.” Mistress Bartree inclined her head coldly. “I hesitate to point this out, but there are dozens of ladies who show up day in and day out to the Queen’s chambers and receive scant attention from Her Majesty.”

Mistress Bartree’s lip curled. “This current crop are not worthy of her attention. I hope you do not pretend to be in ignorance of the many ways the Queen has condescended to give you her gracious attention and mark you out for favor.”

“I do not,” Gunnilde answered swiftly. “And I am very grateful to Her Majesty. But with all due respect, I can scarcely show up to help the Queen dress when I am not permitted to lift so much as a pair of royal stockings.”

They had entered the privy chamber now, with even fewer inhabitants. Gunnilde noticed Lady Wymarka Kloch and Millicent Everidge sat embroidering together in the window seat. Next to the door that led to the Queen’s bedchamber, two of the King’s royal guards stood to attention.

Mistress Bartree rounded on Gunnilde. “I have already explained—” she started hotly.

“You expect me to sit around and fill the room with empty chatter while you perform all the useful offices,” Gunnilde supplied. “But I am not so presumptuous as to turn up in the Queen’s presence without even the flimsiest pretense of usefulness. You must perceive how awkward it would be, Mistress Bartree, if you only gave yourself pause to consider it from my own point of view.”

The other woman stiffened but did not argue. Two spots of bright color appeared on her cheeks. “You—” she began in a choked voice, before breaking off abruptly.

Gunnilde gazed about them. “We are causing quite a stir,” she said, noticing the glances thrown their way. “The other ladies are all whispering that we are at odds.”

“You flatter yourself,” Mistress Bartree said with a twist of her lips. “They are more likely gossiping about the King.”

“The King?”

“That is who is currently with her,” Mistress Bartree answered crossly. “He is always encroaching on her these days.”

Gunnilde’s eyes widened. “You mean...”

“Do not be indiscreet, Lady Wycliffe, I beg you!” the other said quickly. Gunnilde guessed she was terrified she would let something slip about the pregnancy.

“He is her husband,” Gunnilde answered mildly. “Is it not to be expected that he should be entitled to a share of her time?”

“Husbands have a time and a place,” Mistress Bartree said sourly. “Besides, he will have the young prince to take up his attention very soon, will he not? Why must he continue persecute Queen Armenal with his presence!”

Gunnilde glanced about. “Is that common knowledge now?” she asked, lowering her voice. “I understood it was still quite a secret.”

Mistress Bartree shrugged an irritable shoulder. “All of court is now awash with whispers of the royal whelp’s visit,” she said contemptuously.

Ringing footsteps had them all turning as the King emerged from the Queen’s bedchamber. Around them, everyone sank down into a sea of curtseys.

“Come!” Mistress Bartree said with a quick hand gesture. “We will be wanted.”

Gunnilde fell in step with her as they made their way toward the door to Aremenal’s room.

“Ah, Hilde!” the King said, catching sight of her and beckoning. “Met that brother of yours yesterday.”

“Did you, sire?” Gunnilde bobbed another curtsey, acutely aware of Mistress Bartree stood at her side, cold and disapproving.

“Seems a likely lad, if ever I met one. I had him sounded out by my man Vawdrey and made a part of my son’s retinue for his impending visit.”

“But what an honor, Your Majesty! I am sure Hal will be fully sensible of it and most grateful for the opportunity to distinguish himself with the prince.”

“Aye.” The King nodded. “The boy expressed himself well. I expect great things from him. They tell me he cannot be beaten with the staff or at wrestling.”

“Such is his reputation, Your Highness.”

“Hmmm.” The King looked impressed. “I mean to watch some of these Squires’ Revels. I have not done so before but this year I find myself somewhat intrigued.”

“The boys will be beside themselves with excitement, Your Majesty, I have no doubt.”

The King’s gaze strayed over her head to dwell on the door behind them to Queen Armenal’s apartments. His eyes looked troubled. “You must attend the Queen with all diligence, Hilde. She will have need of your support at this trying time.”