An Accidental Queen

Chapter 17

THE BISHOP'S SCHEME for Charles Augustus to produce an heir that night was successful. Within two months, the royal physician declared I was with child.

While my ladies praised my fortitude, my pregnancy made my body unrecognizable. My breasts were tender and my back ached. Soon, my belly was swollen and I could feel the child within me moving, protesting whenever I ingested foods he did not abide.

I was unable to retain any sustenance, though Jeanne—who had learned of many superstitions from country maids during her own pregnancy​​—insisted I satisfy all my dietary cravings or the baby would become scarred or worse.

Platters stacked with roasted vegetables, sugarplums, figs, golden pears, and bread with cotignac and wild cherries were the most common objects that entered my chambers. Jeanne solemnly suggested my craving for sweetness indicated the child would be born female, and encouraged me to eat more masculine foods to prevent this calamity.

Following Jeanne's advice, my ladies paraded trays of venison and poultry into my chambers as the strong meat would encourage the birth of a male heir. However, Jeanne warned against consuming hare's or fish heads, since these delicacies led to other facial irregularities.

Though at times exhausting, Jeanne's advice somewhat calmed me since Fleurine had professed similar superstitions. I remembered her comforting pregnant serfs by providing lists of foods and herbal remedies they ought to partake in.

My diet was not the only thing that changed during my pregnancy. Charles became uncharacteristically affectionate, remaining fixed at my side during state banquets and whenever we went to the chapel for mass. He read to me during the days and ordered lutists and jugglers to entertain me in the evenings.

Even Moorish rope dancers visited the court to perform elaborate dances, their colourful attire and somersaults provoking Martine's disapproval.

One of the young women who performed for us was named Jawhara, which she said meant "jewel" in her language.

She told me she came from Granada but had been captured by the Spanish during one of the many conflicts between Castile and her homeland.

As we became closer, spending evenings engrossed in conversation, I learned she had been abused by a cruel master before finding her way to France. Despite the many hardships she had faced, she spoke with an uncommon gentleness that could disarm even the most hardened of men.

When I asked whether she wished she could return to Granada, she became silent—but the wistful look glazing her dark eyes was more telling than a thousand words.

Sensing our burgeoning friendship, Charles enlisted Francis of Aragon with placing Jawhara in my group of female courtiers. The decision was scandalous since Jawhara was of Moorish descent and a former slave. Indeed, I felt guilt at the thought that Jawhara's new position would make it even more difficult for her to return to Granada.

Regardless, Francis complied, helping Jawhara settle into life at court, as he had when I arrived. At first, the two made an odd pairing. Jawhara was uncomfortable with being in the presence of a Spaniard. Soon, however, their common experience as foreigners at court bound them together as friends.

I could not help but notice the way the Spanish nobleman stared at Jawhara, transfixed by her beauty and effortless grace. In turn, I watched as Jawhara's face glowed whenever Francis spoke to her in his gentle manner or made her laugh when he wanted to put her at ease. Francis was not a particularly handsome man, but he was wholly good. I could see why she liked him.

"Perhaps Jawhara and Francis will marry," I whispered to Charles one night as we banqueted in my chambers. "They seem besotted with one another. And though Jawhara is only a young woman compared to Francis's advanced age, they seem to enjoy one another's company."