"You are very fortunate," the Queen said, at the same time motioning her back to rejoin the others. "You are well loved of men. All is not clear, yet does it seem that vou are too well loved of men." Her voice, mellow and low, tranquil as silver, modulated in exquisite rhythms of sound, was almost as a distant temple bell calling believers to worship or sad souls to quiet judgment. But to Leoncia it was not given to appreciate the wonderful voice. Instead, only was she aware oi anger flaming up to her cheeks and burning in her pulse.
"I have seen you before, and often," the Queen went on.
"Never!" Leoncia cried out.
"Hush!" the Sun Priest hissed at her.
"There," the Queen said, pointing at the great golden bowl. "Before, and often, have I seen you there.
"You also, there," she addressed Henry.
"And you," she confirmed to Francis, although her great blue eyes opened wider and she gazed at him long too long to suit Leoncia, who knew the stab of jealousy that only a woman can thrust into a woman's heart.
The Queen's eyes glinted when they had moved on to rest on Torres.
"And who are you, stranger, so strangely appareled, the helmet of a knight upon your head, upon your feet the sandals of a slave?"
"I am Da Vasco," he answered stoutly.