The King had supped and was playing at “tables” with one of his gentlemen. The room was hung with blue arras, covered with lions rampant in gold. The sun had long set, and a soft, blue-black sky showed through the open window, with here and there a star showing. Candles burnt in sconces on the walls, and the floor was littered with rushes and sweet herbs.
A page came in, a child with flaxen hair.
“Sire, Madame the Princess would see you. She is in the great gallery, and coming hither.”
Richard was not pleased.
“Bid her come, little fool. Sit you still, Falconbridge; we play on.”
They were intent on the game when the Princess entered, and Richard did not raise his eyes to see that Knollys and Salisbury were with her. Knollys had closed the door, and they stood gazing at the King.
“Richard!”
There was such a whipping sharpness in her voice that the King looked up startled, and saw Salisbury and Knollys. Nor did their grim faces please him.
“Ah, my Lord of Salisbury!”
“Falconbridge, leave us.”