"Irene Radford - Merlins Descendents 03 - Guardian of the Vision" - читать интересную книгу автора (Radford Irene)

from me.

I awoke to a bright summer day in Paris with birds singing and river traffic making its usual din. As if it
were just another ordinary day.

Chapter 2

La Palais de la Louvre, Paris, France, the court of Dauphin Francis and his wife, Marie, Queen of Scots
and of England, 21 June in the Year of Our Lord 1558.

тАЬPERE Griffin, you do not join the court in our jeste.тАЭ Queen Marie smiled and fluttered her eyelashes at
me in obvious flirtation. тАЬPerhaps your Jesuit masters have drained all the laughter from you and replaced
it with cold sober logic?тАЭ

I kept my eyes lowered. I was no Jesuit and resented MarieтАЩs reference to their harsh and unforgiving
theology. I also resented her summons when I should be seeking permission to go home.

The jesterтАЩs joke about a priest making lewd advances to a notorious courtesan in the confessional had
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been tasteless and nearly obscene, not worthy of attention much less the rolls of laughter erupting around
the court. I was surprised the jester would dare tell the tale in the presence of Charles de Guise, Cardinal
of Lorraine. I was more surprised MarieтАЩs uncle laughed as loud and long as the rest of the court.

MarieтАЩs small white teeth showed beneath prettily colored lips. Her soft brown eyes and clear, pale skin
glowed with intense vitality. The bejeweled gown in bright emerald green highlighted her red-gold hair.
She glittered and outshone her frail husband, Francis, seated at her side, as well as her sallow
mother-in-law, Catherine de Medici, seated on the other side of her son.

MarieтАЩs maternal uncles, Charles the Cardinal of Lorraine and Due Francis de Guise, the two most
powerful nonroyals in France, stood behind their niece. The jester now played a lute in the corner and
sang a lilting tune of how Marie attracted light by her simple presence.

тАЬThere are many things in life to laugh about, Madame.тАЭ I bowed low in deference to protocol. After all,
I, barely twenty-three and a newly ordained priest in my black soutane, devoid of lace, ornamentation, or
padding, should have felt gratitude and awe at my invitation to court. Even the priceless ivory-and-gold
family rosary that hung at my waist could not rival the gaudy attire and jewels of the court.

Marie frowned at my words.

тАЬThere is the laughter of intense joy,тАЭ I explained. тАЬThere is the hysterical laughter of panic. Or the loving
laughter when tickling a child. But to laugh at a jesterтАЩs mockery of a person and the institution of the
Holy Mother Church seems somehowтАжтАЭ I lifted my hand in a fluttering gesture of indecision rather than
risk a word that might insult.

The court stilled around me. Several gaudily dressed men backed away lest my faux pas taint them as
well.