In 1099, a mysterious child of noble origin was taken in by Jews who had fled the Crusaders' arrival in front of Jerusalem.
Years later, Ada, the descendant of this child, travels through Palestine with her father. He's a merchant and knows medicin...
For a while now, I have been wandering the secret hallways of Aix Palace, barely clothed in a thin blanket.
I'm freezing, and tears of despair fill my eyes.
A flickering light catches my attention, so I cry out for help, "Please, I'm lost!"
I recognize this cursed Sordello who comes towards me. Under the light of his candle, his face looks like an evil gnome.
"His Grace feared that you would go astray. So he ordered me to take you to your room," he says, trying to grab my arm.
I move quickly out of his reach.
"Don't you dare touch me! My husband will soon be at the palace, and your bad manners could cost you dearly."
"You put on airs for a half-naked woman," he retorts, giving me a lecherous look. "His Grace was in a bad mood! Wouldn't you have lived up to his expectations?"
Despite the cold biting every part of my skin, I watch this horrible person with anger. "Who do you think you are? I assure you that you will answer for your words before my husband."
Indifferent to the threat, he bursts out laughing. "The arrogant Reyn of Chasseney doesn't seem to be in any hurry to find you," he scoffs. "But perhaps the young ladies of Marseille dream of being questioned by the attractive new seneschal! These damsels are so frivolous!"
I want to plug my ears and not hear the lies of this rascal anymore.
"Do you know that the communal palace of Marseille where your husband and his garrison are staying is famous for its raucous parties where the most beautiful prostitutes are always welcome to entertain these gentlemen?"
I'm about to slap this rascal, but he stops my gesture with a vicious grin. "You have arrived," he says, pointing to a door, "I will inform His Grace right away that you're safe and sound."
I precipitately pull the latch to rush into the room.
My mouth is dry, and I'm freezing, so I collapse on the bed, trying to sleep.
But terrible nightmares assail me during the night. Trapped in the clutches of Hypnos, I walk to the edge of a dangerous cliff in search of Reyn. I desperately shout his name without receiving any answer. Then the cliff disappears without I manage to reach the top. Finally, I'm in front of a large building with illuminated windows.
Like a sleepwalker, I crossed the threshold of this place and ended up in a vast room. Half-naked soldiers embrace women on a floor as cold as death. I hear the men's moans, mixed with the women's laughter. I walk among the voluptuously entwined bodies to find a smaller, warmer room with a bed covered with golden sheets. I slowly approach this sumptuous bed, but a door slams behind me.
And I wake up sweating, my throat burning.
A chambermaid knocks on the door a few times.
I tell her to come in with a weak voice.
"Her Grace ordered you to go to morning mass," she announced as she burst into the room.
I'm worried about the possibility of seeing the count again, so I pretend to be exhausted as an excuse to stay in bed. However, my physician's instinct is on alert. I suspect a cold during my wanderings in the bowels of Aix Palace.
The young woman nods and specifies that she runs to notify the countess about my state.
Perhaps I should make an effort to attend Mass?
Maybe the count will be absent?
And if so, should I inform the countess of her husband's despicable actions?
But hadn't Beatrice threatened to throw me into the sea when she suspected me of stealing a simple brooch?
And she loves her husband!
In Palestine, she had confided in me that she had climbed the highest towers of Aix Palace to catch a glimpse of King Louis's younger brother. Beatrice's heart had immediately skipped a beat at the sight of Charles. He led the procession, and the azure banner with the fleur-de-lis was floating in the wind. Only nineteen years old, already arrogant and cruel, Charles had been preferred to many suitors.
A light knock signals the return of the chambermaid. I would take the opportunity to ask her for a honeyed tea to soothe the pain in my throat.
"Come in," I say in a barely audible tone.
To my great dismay, it's Beatrice who appears before me.
"You're using an illness as an excuse not to go to Mass," she grumbled, sounding furious. "I always thought you lacked religion. So here is the proof!"
She looked exactly like the day she accused me of stealing, with this angry grimace distorting her mouth and making her almost ugly.
"I must have caught a cold," I mutter.
I'm so uncomfortable that it's pitiful. I have neither the desire nor the energy to face the countess. May heaven preserve the unfortunate women who are her ladies-in-waiting.
And I intend to refuse such a proposal!
However, from the look on her face, it would be surprising if Beatrice offered me a job.
"I want to tell you that I'm leaving for Digne, and of course, Charles is coming with me."
Despite my weakened state, I nearly leap for joy.
"What an excellent idea, Your Grace!"
"I'm not going away happily, believe it or not! But I've heard horrible rumors about you and my husband, spread by a maid. Unfortunately, this girl was found early this morning drowned in the moat. Her malice didn't bring her much luck. She was probably obeying Charles's enemies and may have begged for too much gold."
I slowly repeated the words with fright, "Drowned! In the moat!"
Beatrice glares at me with a murderous look.
"Don't act so surprised! I always knew that Charles found you to his liking, but I didn't think he would dare act on it. Fortunately, our departure for Digne will end this awful gossip. As for you, you remain here, and you should be careful," she adds with a hateful sneer, "the murderer of this girl is surely not far."
She observes me for one moment by taking a face both virtuous and offended. "Your beauty will only bring you trouble," she finally roars. "By the way, I wrote the main part of this affair to your husband, and a messenger warned me that the seneschal was galloping like a devil towards Aix. Therefore, he should not delay, and you will explain yourself soon, my dear."
Before leaving the room, she throws me some last and odious words, "One could hardly expect anything else from a woman who served as a whore in a Mohammedan harem."
If I wasn't alone, weakened, and if she wasn't the powerful, detestable countess of Provence.
Plus, if I weren't both deliriously happy and panic-stricken by Reyn's imminent arrival.
I believe I would hungrily devour that damn shrew!
***
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