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behind this presentation, the Scelfton men moved protec tively near, their expressions solemn and foreboding. Henry took his seat and smiled very tolerantly at this display.
    “ A handsome family, my lord, ” he said quietly.
    “ Thank you, my liege, ” Harlan replied.
    Henry looked past Felise to the sons. “ You would be confident of arms with these, ” he said. Felise thought perhaps she noted a hint of envy in the man ’ s eyes. It was a well-known fact that Henry battled with his sons, and it was ever the question as to who might win. In the Scelfton household there was no envy or competition. The wealth was firmly divided, with Evan earning his right to Twyford by being firstborn.
    The door at the side of the presence chamber opened and Eleanor entered, four ladies in tow. Though Felise could not remember the queen ’ s features from her youth, there was no question who she was. She wore a rich gown lined about the neck and wrists with fur, and her hair was covered by an elaborate wimple. If her state was impoverished, her cloth ing did not show it. And if she was old, it was not obvious in her face or gait. She was proudly erect, her skin still smooth and velvety, and her demeanor spoke of power, not submis sion. Eleanor ’ s reputation was not the best, yet in this figure it was difficult to surmise cruelty, for the queen ’ s smile was gentle and her eyes alert and compassionate.
    She bowed first to her husband and Felise wondered what passed between them. Was there yet love, after Eleanor had battled him and he had imprisoned her for so many years? Was this submission true, or did the queen bide her time and play her game before Henry while she plotted in her mind? It was romantic intrigue indeed, for Henry re sponded with what appeared to be an amiable nod and Eleanor took her seat, leaving the guests to wonder what odd alliance these two had.
    The four ladies stood about the room. There were a few fettered knights, a few servants and courtiers, but even though more than a dozen people other than the Scelftons were there, this was in all a private audience. Eleanor leaned forward in her seat. “ Take away your cloak, child, and let me look at you, ” she instructed softly.
    Felise self-consciously pushed her hood away and un hooked the fastening at her throat. Harlan helped her from behind and slowly drew the cloak away from her shoulders. One of the women from Eleanor ’ s group came forward to take the cloak from Har lan; she seemed transfixed by Fel ise ’ s appearance.
    Felise did not pose, but simply stood erect and tried to keep her fluttering stomach calm. She had appraised her own choice of gown and coiffure before leaving the inn and decided it would do, but she had not learned vanity and so did not consider herself above the fairness of any other well-dressed woman. But the appearance she gave was exquisite to those in the room. Her lustrous hair was bound in a thick braid that had been wrapped about her head. The gown she wore gave depth to her large eyes and brought out more of their green than blue, and her cheeks and lips appeared to have been ever so lightly brushed by a peach. She was taller than many women -- taller than Lady Edrea and, the woman who took her cloak. Her slender form and narrow waist only emphasized her full bosom and long, graceful fingers. She was quickly recognized as beautiful and lithesome.
    It seemed to her that long moments had passed while she was being scrutinized by all eyes. Her father tried to ease her discomfort and draw the attention away from his daughter. “ Your Majesty, ” Harlan said quietly.
    Eleanor ’ s attention was easily gained. She straightened and smiled at Lord Scelfton. “ Quite right, my lord, ” she said with a little laugh. “ We mustn ’ t make Lady Felise fear us by our rude stares. My dear, your loveliness is uncom mon. You ’ ll forgive us? ”
    It was then that Felise noticed that the woman who held her cloak stared up at her