Leah and Hugh entered Whitehall Palace"s great hall. She took in the sights, amazed she was seeing all this with her own eyes.
Court glittered like Camelot awaiting the king’s arrival. Candles blazed in the chandeliers above, and flares glowed in iron rings on the walls. Fine linen and golden plate adorned the dais. Up in the gallery, a troupe of musicians were tuning their instruments: a harp, a dulcimer, a few viols, and what sounded like a clavichord.
As she adjusted her billowing sleeves, she said a silent prayer of thanks that fate had placed her in a royal court rather than a dirt-floored shack.
"Queen Anne loved music," Hugh said. “God rest her soul. Although her death still tears Richard apart inside, he puts on a brave front."
The steward led them to their seats. "How old was
