It was now Yolande’s turn to weave her flower of praise into the royal garland.
“The celestials had better abide in the courts of heaven, for if they came to earth they could never hope to rival Sicily.”
Her brown eyes glowed more adoration than her words. Robert, advancing towards her and taking her by the chin, peered into their depths with a perverse smile that made the girl quiver.
“Your lips drop honey,” he said, lightly. “But you must linger for your reward. I kiss out of court to-night.”
At this insolent announcement the favorites exchanged rapid glances. Faustina spoke first and swiftly.
“One smile from the King’s eyes is sufficing payment for his poor servants.”
Messalinda came quickly at her heels with no less flagrant humility.
“To be honored with one thought of the great King’s mind is to be honored above the need of women.”
French Yolande was less politic. Perhaps she had hoped to hold the King’s fancy more surely than her fellows. She, too, winged her compliment, but she barbed it with a question.