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sop to his conscience; she would never refuse him at this stage. Never? There was a tiny chance. Simon laid aside the gown and tunic and dressed himself in less fine garments. Even that tiny chance was too great. "If she refuses me," the troubadours sang, "I will die." But the trouble is, Simon thought, I will not die. If I could die, I would not hesitate an instant. I will have to live, and I cannot face enduring that torment. |
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He fled the palace. His excuse was that he wished to redeem the bride gift that he had placed in safekeeping with the Templars while he was fighting. In reality he did not dare speak to anyone he knew. He had only two thoughts in his head and they would come out of his mouth if he opened it and make a fool of him. Worse might befall him. The King might change his mind; Alinor might change hers. |
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Out of deference to the rather sad mood and the near-frantic distaste of Queen Berengaria, the wedding was to be as quiet as possible. There was to be no feast, no outward celebration. Dinner was very subdued. Neither the King nor his gentlemen attended. They were busy arranging all that must be done before leaving the Holy Land. Berengaria wept; Alinor sat in stony silence. After one or two efforts, Joanna gave up her attempts to make things pleasanter. |
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Joanna had offered to come and help Alinor dress, but at the last minute she and the other ladies had been summoned to the Queen. With only the help of her maids, Alinor donned the white silk tunic and green cotte she had chosen to wear. There had been no time to prepare really elaborate garments, and they would have been out of place anyway. One single bright note was sounded, and even that was marred. When the priest came with the signed marriage contract, he brought Alinor a river of gold and emeralds to hang around her neck. It was a priceless gift, but there was no message to lighten the heart of the girl who received it. In the twilight of the day, she walked |
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