“Alais, we will soon celebrate the Feast of the Assumption of Our Lady. Peasants and lords alike will flood our borders to rejoice with us.”
I stared at William, my embroidery forgotten. I did not know what to say. It was clear he was not asking my permission but telling me of a plan he had laid down long ago. Perhaps it was a tradition there to honor the Holy Mother on that day.
“There will be dancing, and songs sung in your honor.”
“There need be no songs for me,” I said.
“Lady, I will sing the first of them myself.”
William left my room as suddenly as he had come, and Marie Helene raised one eyebrow.
“Songs for you?” she asked. “And he will sing the first of them?” She was often silent, but I had forgotten that her sweet serenity and soft blonde hair hid a sardonic wit and a mind
