Chapter 7

"My dear uncle, I hope this letter finds you feeling stronger. I am in perfect health and behaving as well as can be expected." Joanna would laugh at that, and her uncle would be unable to suppress a small smile through whatever pain he was in. "The Queen was uncertain what role a country girl such as I could fill, but I have proven myself skillful at keeping the young prince from harm as he starts walking." To say the Queen was uncertain about her presence was a triumph of understatement, and it had nothing to do with her country upbringing. "Otherwise, I have largely gone unnoticed, as fits my station." She had avoided the King for a time, and mercifully, his attention roved so freely that he had quickly forgotten whatever designs he might have had when he brought her to court.

Queen Elizabeth hadn't forgotten, of course, but had treated worrying about a potential rival as beneath her dignity. Or perhaps ordering Kate to spend her days on her knees with the young prince was intended to be a punishment, or at least to provide a dose of humility. The Queen had no way of knowing that being asked to sit quietly, sewing for hours on end with the other ladies, would have been the true torture.

Not that she disliked all the ladies. Some clearly amused themselves at her expense, but the Duchess of Clarence, the former Isabel Neville, was blandly sweet, like milk with a bit of honey in it. Anne Neville interested her more. What was she thinking, living with the people who had killed her father and husband? Kate wondered, but knew not to ask. Everyone had decided that it was best to pretend the past had never happened. She rather preferred the infant prince, who could not yet talk, to those who could and chose not to.

Perhaps she had not been entirely truthful when she told her uncle she was behaving as well as could be expected, she thought as she slipped out one night after an unlucky day spent among the ladies while the prince was in bed with a rheum. And yet – where was the harm in going to run on the grass in the courtyard? It allowed her to sit quietly and do as she was told, knowing a kind of freedom was only hours away.

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Richard had seen the prince's new playmate slip by in her nightdress a few times before, when bloody dreams would allow him no respite. He wondered who she had taken as a lover so quickly. Not the King; another wench was occupying his lap at the moment. Not Clarence, whose vice was wine, rather than women. Someone far less glorious, no doubt. The foolish girl was probably in love, or thought she was.

So he was rather surprised to see her enter the courtyard alone, and promptly run about like a boy just released from his lessons. She obviously had not seen him, and he drew back further into the shadows. He felt a pang as he watched, and told himself it was envy that a girl who was not allowed to run could move so easily, while he only hobbled along. But he saw her calf, gleaming white in the moonlight, and was forced to admit that was not the source of his pain. He disliked the implication and clapped his hands, slowly and mockingly, until he had her attention.

She flushed and wrapped her arms about herself. "I – I could not sleep," she said, seemingly aware of the inadequacy of her explanation.

"The Queen would not be pleased," Richard noted.

"I know she will not."

"Would not be pleased, if I were to tell her."

"Do as you see fit, Your Grace."

"Thou wilt not entreat me?"

"No, Your Grace. You will do as your conscience dictates."

Richard snorted. "Tell me, Katherine – that is thy name, is it not?"

"Aye, Your Grace. Kate." She seemed surprised that he knew it. He smiled. Those who felt overlooked were always easiest to win.

"Well then, Kate, tell me how thou findest Edward's court."

"Strange, Your Grace, and myself strange in it." He waited. "I hardly know who is friend to whom, and who is enemy."

"A difficult question," Richard agreed. "Especially when the rivalries are so petty, so inconsequential."

She struggled to find her voice. "I did not know anyone else thought thus. Everyone is so preoccupied by them, I thought I was too foolish to see their great import."

"Do not think thyself a fool in that," Richard said. "In this-" he gestured toward the courtyard where she had been running, "perhaps."

She looked down and blushed, though Richard wasn't entirely sure whether it was shame at being caught or embarrassment at his slight praise of her intellect. He rather liked the idea that a small compliment from him might draw the blood to her cheeks. It was, if nothing else, a novel experience to affect a lady thus.

"I should return," she said.

"Indeed, thou shouldst. And take care, Kate."

She scampered back to wherever the Queen's ladies slept. Richard waited in the now-empty courtyard for a few moments before returning to his own chambers. He laid down on the bed and tried to think of how he might use this new ally, but images of the bare calf kept crowding in. "She will manage you as much as you manage her, Gloucester, if you don't take care," he thought to himself.