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Page 163
a little more slowly, had barely set the Queen upon her feet when Richard reached them. The King eagerly forestalled his mother's curtsy and bent his knee to her instead to ask her blessing. Queen Alinor's voice trembled when she gave it. It was the first time Alinor had ever heard those clear tones shaken. She kissed Richard's hands when he placed them in hers and when he stood kissed his cheeks and then his lips.
They spoke a little, a few murmurs too low for the crowd to hear. Then Richard turned to the Queen's cortege, who were all kneeling, and gestured for them to rise, smiling sweetly. Alinor's breath caught at his beauty. He was as big as Simon or William Marshal, but somewhat more lithe and with a marvelous grace in movement. His hair was red-gold, worn just a trifle longer than the short crop now fashionable so that the edges curled under. The eyes were brilliantly blue, as bright as a clear summer sky, and his skin was pale and fair and unmarked by the ugly freckling so characteristic of the fair Angevins.
He turned then and said a few words to Simon. Alinor was relieved to see Simon laugh easily and reply and then kiss the King's hand with genuine warmth when it was held out to him. His mood had been so peculiar that she had fearedshe knew not what, for Simon's public manners were always excellent. Then the King moved forward into the mass of courtiers and churchmen, saying a pleasant word here and there where he recognized a face or a coat of arms. He spoke kindly to one or two ladies also, but not to Alinor who shrank back as a modest maiden should. She even looked away a trifle. The less she was noticed at this moment the better she would like it.
The turn of her head showed her a second man who had bent his knee to the Queen. By chance he glanced up also, and their eyes met. Without reason, Alinor recoiled. There was no personal threat in the glance, but she shrank from a rapacity that would eat the world

 
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