A Bride and Her Lady
Xabregas Palace, Outer Lisboa
Early to Mid-August 1339
Inês heard the intake of breaths as they rounded the corner and stopped at the entry to the great hall. She longed to pull at the linen chemise clinging to her damp skin in the midday heat. Her kirtle pushed up her breasts, and padding accentuated her belly, forcing her to inhale shallowly. She and Constanza wore matching green silk kirtles. Inês had elected a deep blue surcoat while Constanza wore bright yellow. Inês’s blue and green brocade crespina capped thick golden hair flowing down her back. Constanza’s thin, dark hair was capped with a bejeweled yellow crespina, almost a crown, as though claiming her future role as queen. With heads demurely looking downward, shoulders back, and a right hand on the bellies they push up, she and Constanza offered the visualization of virginity and future motherhood to the Portuguese court unabashedly staring at them. They were the precise image of perfect unwed women.
“Lady Constanza Manuel of Peñafiel,” announced a man standing just behind them.
“Shall we?” Constanza whispered to Inês.
“My lady, we triumph before we enter,” she replied.
Each kicked a foot rightward and swept it forward in an arc to commence her slow glide forward. Inês counted each step as she held her posture. Rush matting gave way to rich Turkiye carpets. Fifty-eight steps to cross the length of the hall, and they arrived before the king and queen. Inês halted five paces behind Constanza as they bowed their heads in unison and bent in deep curtsies before the royal family.
“Rise,” Afonso commanded. And so they did.
As Constanza began the ritual formalities, Inês discreetly, without moving her head, inspected those she could see. Her eyes locked with those of a man standing to the right of the king. Ah, Pedro, Constanza’s future husband, she thought. A smile played on his lips, and she averted her gaze.
She glanced left to see an array of ladies standing beyond the queen. They stared frankly at both women, frozen in position before the court. She dared a glance back to the right, and he was still staring at her, though now he winked. She tried not to react, but her eyebrows rose. He knew she was aware of his stare. Her heart pounded, and warmth rushed from her chest to her forehead. Inês’s fair skin and pale hair precluded discreet blushes. She looked back at the ladies and saw they had observed her reaction to Pedro. Fortunately, no one behind her saw her reaction, and the royal family paid her no attention. Or so she hoped.
“We ask your retinue to come forward and join us,” Queen Beatriz said.
The Castilian legation, headed by Sancho Manuel of Villena, eldest, though illegitimate, son of Constanza’s father, streamed into the hall behind a banner of the house of Constanza’s family. Behind Sancho Manuel came two noblewomen, María Fernández de Velasco y Castañeda and María Sancha Gil. Castile’s king had selected these two to accompany the wedding party and to serve as his eyes and ears in the Portuguese court. Inês, when whispering with Constanza, disdainfully called these newcomers the two Marias. Following these ladies was Inês’s half-brother, Alvaro Pires de Castro. Another score of persons, richly dressed, trailed Alvaro.
As the last of the Castilian contingent entered the room, everyone broke apart, freed from the formal greeting into circles of small conversation. Inês stood dutifully behind Constanza as she engaged in her first exchange with Pedro. Inês’s half-brother, Alvaro, arrived at her elbow, and she turned to chat.
“You were both quite elegant on entrance,” he said. “Oh, the happy couple approaches.”
Constanza discreetly wiped dampness from her upper lip before she said, “My Lord Pedro, may I introduce one of my two guardians for the journey here, Alvaro Pires de Castro and his sister, Lady Inês Perez de Castro e Valardes. They serve so long as it may please you. Though I humbly pray they may stay many moons in support of my new life.”
Pedro bowed to them. “I have this day been o’er run and conquered. We welcome your companions to Portugal
Inês thought in horror, He is speaking to me. I am trapped, but I cannot look away. Nor could she think of anything to say. Her mind would not work.
Queens of Portugal Trilogy – Book One
Praise for Inês:
“Mathis masterfully weaves emotional depth into the narrative, creating a deeply engaging experience that leaves a lasting impression and invites readers on an unforgettable journey through the grandeur and intrigue of Portugal’s past.”
~ Mary Anne Yarde, The Coffee Pot Book Club 5* Review
“This exciting start to the Queens of Portugal trilogy describes the legendary love story of Pedro and Inês, and I was amazed at the excellent storytelling and how the author brings the courts to life. There is a lot of drama and intrigue, and the characters’ emotions are beautifully captured in this engrossing tale.”
~ Readers Favorite 5* Review
Catherine Mathis was born in Berlin, the daughter of an American spy. As she grew up in Washington, D.C., her spy father turned into a drug enforcement agent. His career change wrecked any chance at high school popularity.Author Links:
Thanks so much for hosting Catherine Mathis, with an intriguing excerpt from her fascinating new novel, Inés.
Take care,
Cathie xx
The Coffee Pot Book Club