IX
And now, by the Queen's command which might not be denied, the talk flowed through the days of leisure during the absence of the King, while Caterina strolled with her Cyprian maid of honor through the terraced gardens in the cool of the evening, or rested in the heat of the day, in the shaded apartments of the voto. The girl-queen listened with breathless eagerness to the strange revelations, often interrupting with passionate exclamations, for her short taste of Cyprian life had been so colored with the glamour of love and happiness and the excitement of her novel surroundings that the vague forebodings which were beginning to temper the brilliancy had suggested no serious shadows.
In vain Donna Margherita pleaded that she might be allowed to put the theme aside, as she told of the disaffection of some of the ancient nobles of Cyprus who had been despoiled of vast estates because of their sympathy with Queen Carlotta. "But Janus was ever generous," said Margherita, "and none of their riches went into the King's treasury, but always into the hands of those nobles who were loyal to the new Government."
The new Government! Queen Carlotta! The young Venetian's hot resentment rose fiercely against the Republic which had left her in such ignorance of Cyprian matters while she turned her proud young head away that Margherita might not guess how little the name of Carlotta had meant for her.
"Tell me more of Carlotta—tell me everything," she commanded, steadied by her quick resolve to know and endure whatever the past might hold for her; and Margherita, who had been watching her with strange intuition, knew that she might hold nothing back, as she also knew that the young Queen had been kept in absolute ignorance of the complications preceding the accession of Janus. But it was impossible for Caterina to conceal the play of her angry emotions as the tale progressed, and she frankly gave up the attempt. Janus—her beautiful Janus—the idol of the old King—not the legal heir to the throne! Janus, in his boyhood, hated, thwarted, intrigued against—living in very fear of his life!
"Nay!" Margherita assured her with glowing eyes, "he knew not the color of fear, for he had the heart of a King!"
Then Caterina drew her close and gave her a passionate kiss, in seal of a friendship that was never to be broken.
"He had need to be brave," Margherita went on when she could command her voice, for the Queen's great eyes were beseeching, "for Queen Elenà cared not how he should be put out of the way so that he might not interfere with her absolute sway nor with the holding of the Crown by her daughter Carlotta, when old King Janus should die."
So this was why, by Queen Elenà's command, the dashing, masterful boy of fifteen had been created Archbishop of Cyprus—in the hope that the honors of the Church might absorb his powers and keep the wish for his succession out of the thoughts of the people who idolized him! This holding of the Primacy had been a mystery to Caterina, who, dearly as she loved her hero, knew him to be no saint. But, whatever the rights of Carlotta—who had been left Queen by her father's will (and insistent questions thrust themselves into the thoughts of Caterina while she listened, zealous to escape no detail)—it was evident that Margherita's sympathies went out to Janus.