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Title: R & A Part 1
Section: Chapter 1
By: Ms. J
Reviewed By: Tranquil Reaper


Plot:
Anne Baux is at court with Queen Eleanor when Duke richard retuns (not sure from what) for a tournement. So far so good. It has kept me going from that great prologue you have.

Characters:
I won't list them all. I'll just say that the little subdued spat that took place with Anne and Millicent was very nice. However, I wasn't sure if it was playful teasing or serious dislike. After reading further I decided on playful teasing, but I would explain that a little better.

Also, Raymond of Castile is fantastic! Good job with him.

Grammar/Spelling:
Just a few things noted in the Line by Line.

Style/voice:
Narrators voice continued from the prologue. I did not notice any conflicts.

Setting:
The palace of Potiers in the la Grande Salle. You did pretty well with this. Although maybe something showing me the size and landscape of the room would help. Also, something describing how many people are on hand. It will help picture it better.

Overall:
You have a real gem here. It is totally not my style to write or to read, so I'm a bit put of my element. However, I am having no problems reading this. A good read is a good read, and this so far is just that. What you have here is golden. Keep up the great work!

Line by Line:
Queen Eleanor scurried through the unsettled Grande Salle in the palace of Poitiers. She directed the decoration of the great hall and made final preparations for the return of her son, Richard, the Duke. Eleanor, the formidable queen, was petite and a bit plumped after giving birth to ten children. The queen’s beauty and vitality radiated more than some half her age. Her once dark tresses now streaked with gray, but her big soft brown eyes, long dark lashes, a straight slim nose, and full lips presented her noble heritage. With a face that did not show the wrinkles that some of lesser years displayed, many people found it hard to believe Eleanor had entered her fifties. 

The queen loved Poitiers, the birthplace of her ancestors, the town, her castle, everything about it. Poitiers loved the queen as well. The town’s structures and the castle itself mirrored her beauty, charm, and poise needs period >

Today, though, Eleanor found it difficult to complete the tasks at hand. Youths from throughout the kingdom and beyond filled the court at Poitiers to be trained in the ways of nobility and chivalry. With the coming tournament, the air at court sparked with excitement. Everywhere the youths found it hard to focus on their assigned tasks. Young women sneaked off to primp and fluff themselves while the young men practiced poetry recitations or dueled with cattails. They intended to notice and to be noticed¬¬–hard and time¬– < Maybe: in spite of their hard and time > consuming work. One by one they fell prey to the atmosphere and left their other duties unattended. 

The queen shook her head over the half-completed chores, but when she saw a pair of lovers fluttering their eyes at one another, she chuckled to herself. It was just a tournament, after all. It was not as if kingdoms rose or fell on this occasion. Even she could remember being young and filled with the same energy that now permeated the air. 

Turning in place, Eleanor inspected the progress as one lady of the court made her way across the great hall, her footfalls muted in the cavernous space known as The Hall of Forgotten Footsteps. At one end of the long hall, light filtered in through arched windows carved like lace hovering over the raised dais. The sunshine landed upon a young lady carrying a bundle of deep blue cloth high enough to hamper her vision. She called out to the queen, “Your Majesty, here is the cloth you asked for.”

Eleanor clapped her hands together. “Perfect!” She intended the bright blue cloth be used as bunting behind the head table. The hue would stand out against the gold earthen tones of the stone walls, while making the yellow, pinks, and reds of the flowered swags pop and liven <I didn’t like these two together. I think by replacing them both with “embolden” you create the same feel but more elegantly in step with the rest of your text > the room beneath its high timber beam ceiling. “Oh, bless you, Anne. I knew you’d be the one to find it.” She leaned close to the girl and patted her on the cheek. “I am so glad your father chose to send you here to me. There are times that I wish you were my daughter.”

Anne blushed. “My Lady, I am among the luckiest creatures of Christendom.”

Like Eleanor, Anne was a child of Languedoc, the area in France south of the Loire River. Her complexion was smoother and darker than those of her counterparts that came from the North. Anne wore her hair long in the fashion amongst the young ladies of the court. The queen called it cinnamon in color, brown with touches of red in the sun, sometimes a “burning cinnamon.” Anne’s eyes, framed with dark lashes, shown an alluring hazel like her beloved father’s. With high cheekbones, her slim nose came to a subtle point above her full pink lips. 

Taking the bundle of bunting from Anne, Eleanor handed it to the nearest servant. She took Anne’s arm and steered her toward the enormous fireplace. “My darling, I have grown to love you as if you were my own.” Then she added with a twinkle in her eye, “Do not tell the Countess Marie; she will be jealous.”

As if summoned by the sound of her name, Countess Marie entered the hall. The Countess shared many of her mother’s good looks and her mother’s wit. She also inherited her southern French passion. The only thing that marred her features was her wide nose, coming from her father, King Louis of France. Countess Marie was blessed in many ways, but there was one constant irritant in her life, her husband. Like most noble women, Marie’s father married her off for the best political advantage. The Count of Champagne, perhaps the dullest creature that God ever created, was only six years younger than Eleanor. In closed circles, the Countess often remarked, “A snail has more personality than that man!” So, Marie did the only thing she could; she fled to her half-brother’s court at Poitiers. At Poitiers, <Replace with the word “There” to eliminate redundancy> Marie was, for the most part, responsible for the “Courts of Love,” <If this is the name, then it doesn’t need the quotation marks. If it is a nickname then you’re ok to use them or may italicize them but note why they are called this. Let us in on it> the arena in which the skills of fin amour were so aptly taught.

Eleanor caught sight of Marie as she entered the great hall. “What is it, Dearest? You look rather fretful.”

“He’s done it again!” Marie threw her hands up.

“What? Who?” But Eleanor could guess the answer.

“Richard just arrived! Apparently, he left the main group behind, racing on ahead.” Marie tried to narrow her eyes, but a smile escaped her lips. 

Eleanor smiled in spite of herself. “Of course he did. That is so like Richard, but there is still so much to be done!”

“Not to worry, my Lady. There are plenty of hands here to complete the work. I shall see to it that it is done and we will be celebrating right on schedule,” Anne offered. “Not to worry. I you wish, go and greet your son.”

“I put my trust in your capable hands,” Eleanor replied as she and Countess Marie left the great hall to welcome Richard.

When the appointed time for the banquet came, everything came together like a miracle. The decorated hall glowed, and the inviting smell of roasted meat and sweetbreads wafted from the kitchens as the court assembled ready to welcome the royal family. Lady Anne stood with a row of other young ladies waiting in the great hall. Millicent, another young lady of the court, fretted and fussed next to Anne. “What do you think Anne? Are the flowers too much?”

Anne looked over Millicent. “Here. I think if we adjust these in front…” Anne plucked a few flowers from Millicent’s golden head, “ ... yes, that should do it.”

“ ... want to stand out, but I don’t want to stand out too much. Do you think they are too much?” Millicent wrinkled her forehead.

“Your beauty does not need any more to augment it. You look fine. Besides, whose eye are you hoping to catch? I thought we agreed there is not a man here at this court that is of much interest.” Anne adjusted her own dark green sleeves.

“Duke Richard, of course!”

Anne’s brows lifted. “What do you mean, Duke Richard? Millicent, he is already promised to another.”

Millicent rolled her blue eyes. “Dear sweet, Anne, that does not mean that there is no fun to be had. I have met him before, and I must say he is a very agreeable person. Have you not met him?”

“Well, no, I have not.”

“You will get your chance soon enough. If I were you, I would do something to spruce myself up at least a little bit.”

“I did; I just chose not to put flowers in my hair.” Anne narrowed her eyes at Millicent.

“You mean you did not have time to put flowers in your hair because you were too busy trying to be the queen’s favorite.” Millicent corrected her.

Anne smiled sweetly. “Oh no, there was no trying involved.”

Just then a trumpet sounded, announcing the arrival of the royal family. Looking down at one of Millicent’s little white flowers she still held, Anne hastily tucked it into her own hair. Those in the great hall curtseyed and bowed as the queen, the countess, and the duke entered. Curiosity should have driven Anne to look up and catch a glimpse of the duke, but after what Millicent said, she felt rather self-conscious. A lock of hair fell forward over her shoulder as she curtsied. She was glad of it; at least it would hide her ears. Anne hated her ears. Often times, she imagined that her ears were a bit on the pointed side. Anne always felt that she was plain, just plain Anne. People often told her that she looked like her mother, a renowned beauty, inheriting her mother’s high cheekbones, and delicate nose, but there was just enough of her father in her to mar the look. Thinking of the silly flower she just put in her hair, she blushed.

After the royal family passed, those assembled found their respective places, Richard took his place on the dais, stood at the head table, and raised a glass. “I declare that the tournament festivities officially begun. Here is to those who will attain honor and glory.”

“Hazzah!” Many in the crowd echoed.

When the duke and company took their seats, page boys dressed in matching red tunics served dinner. Millicent, seated next to Anne, leaned over and whispered to her, “Well, Anne, even you must say that the duke certainly is handsome in an interesting sort of way.”

“I am relieved to see that he does not have perfect shaped ears.”

“His ears? What?”

Anne stole another look at the Duke. His looks were not the kind to make one’s heart skip a beat, but not unpleasant to behold. His long golden red hair was the shade that came from spending time in the summer sun. Fortunately for him, he sat a head and a half taller than his mother. Lacking her delicate build, he possessed a barrel chest and a ruddy complexion. These must have come from his father, Anne surmised. His lips were also much thinner than his mother’s. 

Movement to her left captured Anne’s attention, and she grumbled, “Oh spite! Here comes Raymond.” Anne caught sight of her least favorite thing about court as he stalked toward her. Raymond of Castile’s black hair framed his face in soft curls. His pleasant shaped physique, muscular arms, and well toned legs complimented his dark features. However, he carried himself with more arrogance than elegance, dressed as always only in the best clothes money could buy, the best fabrics, and the best tailoring.

Millicent tipped her head to the side. “Ah yes, Raymond of Castile. He is the sixth in line for the succession to the throne of Castile, after the king, the Prince Alfonso, Ferdinand, Sancho, Don Carlos, Philip, Juan the cook, the master at arms, the pigs, the horses, the cows, and then Raymond < Maybe: …and the cows – which makes him…> which makes him utterly useless. So, he came to Poitiers. Why?” 

“Need I remind you that most of the young men here are the younger sons?”

Millicent shrugged. “Yes, but at least there is some hope for them that they will learn to be chivalric and honorable. I fear Raymond of Castile, on the other hand, despite the Countess’ and Queen’s efforts, will be neither.” < This sentence is a tad awkward. By removing “on the other hand” it’s easier understood>

“Shh, he will hear you Millicent.”

Raymond moved like a peacock to Anne’s table, and addressed her as if he were going to give a command. “Lady Anne.” He stopped and started again with a softer tone, “I mean, good evening, Lady Anne. I hope you are well.”

“Very well, I thank you,” Anne answered but avoided eye contact.

Raymond just stood there. Millicent looked away and stifled a giggle. The silence crushed Anne, compelling her to do something, say something. “Is there something else you wished to say?”

“Oh, yes. I just wish to inform you that I shall be singing a song which I hope you will find pleasing.” Raymond lifted his chin higher.

“The Queen does enjoy a good ballad.” Anne tried to deflect him.

“Come now, Anne.” Raymond sniffed a little. “You know exactly what I am saying. I will be singing a song just for you.”

Anne’s eyes widened. “I assure you that is not necessary.

Raymond protested, “But according to the rules of the Courts of Love <comma needed here> it is.”

“No!” Anne almost shouted. “There are other ways of expressing oneself to a maid. Besides, I assure you that I am not worthy of such a performance.”

Up at the head table, Richard signaled for the crowd to quiet. “Ah good, the entertainment is to start!” <I assume Raymond is saying this. I know it’s a separate paragraph but I would insert attribute it to him> With only the slightest bow, Raymond returned to his seat.

“Do you think he is really going to do it?” Millicent raised her eyebrows in concern.

Anne shook her head. “Heaven help us.”

A series of boisterous jesters, sentimental singers, and lively dancers performed. So far Raymond failed to take the floor. Anne began to think he would not do it after all. Maybe he just made a strange sort of threat or a desperate plea for attention. As the night wore on, Millicent’s unsuccessful attempts to catch the eye of Richard entertained her. Then, just when Anne began to relax, Raymond took the floor with a lute. 

“It looks as though heaven is not on your side tonight,” Millicent observed.

Raymond took a seat, not in front of the royal family as custom dictated, but on a stool in front of Anne. Accompanying himself on the lute, he sang a popular love song. Anne wilted as Raymond hit one off-key note after another,r <extra letter> and <Maybe use a semicolon her to eliminate the redundant use of "and">she noticed other listeners grimacing as well.

z

At the head table, Richard watched the proceedings with curiosity. Never hearing anything quite like it before, it affected his appetite, and he dropped the chicken leg he was eating on his plate. “Who is this?”

Eleanor replied, “Raymond of Castile.”

“The poor fellow plays competently enough, but he brays like an ass!” Richard gulped some wine in a vain attempt to drown the singer.

Eleanor smiled. “The youngest of six brothers, he is here for one reason and one reason only.”

Richard hoped that it was something he could use to bribe Raymond of Castile to get him to stop singing. “What would that be?”

“Anne Baux de Marseilles.”

“And who is she?”

“She is the heir of the Viscount de Marseilles, his only surviving child. His title is not so great as his wealth. I met him while on Crusade < I was thinking that this should not be capitalized since it’s not a proper name. In this case it’s like saying, “while on holiday,” or “while traveling,” etc, > with Louis. The viscount is a good man and a very wealthy one. Anne arrived here while you were in Rouen. Of course, word spread, and suddenly many a young man pursued her riches. Raymond is, at least, the most persistent. If a good try were all required in life, he would have been successful a long time ago.” 

Richard winced as Raymond sang a high note. “If his personality is anything like his singing, I feel rather sorry for her.”

Raymond finished his song as a collective sigh of relief filtered through the room. The applause that followed was for the respite from the agony. Raymond gave a bow to the head table, then turned giving a lower bow in Anne’s direction.

Someone from the crowd shouted, “Give us a song, Lady Anne!”

“Oh no. I could not possibly,” Anne protested.

“Come now, Anne. We all enjoy hearing from you,” Countess Marie called out.

Eleanor seconded the sentiment. “Yes, Dear, favor us with one of your recent creations.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Anne stood and curtsied.

With a deep breath, Anne composed herself and took the lute from Raymond. She wrestled it from his hands as he remained there grinning at her. Taking the stool from where Raymond placed it, she seated herself in the appropriate place in front of the royal family and began her song. She stroked the lute with her long thin fingers and began to play her song. Her voice was not the high angelic type. Hauntingly, its deep rich tones resonated throughout the hall.



O shifting Fortune, ever-changing,

Like the moon

Always waxing, then collapsing



But once this novel flame begins,

It flares within

And never shows a weakening.



Love is not wrong because

If it were a crime,

God would never have used love

To bind even the divine



Richard watched Anne with a great deal of curiosity. The tone of her voice, the emotion in her words mesmerized him. His interest did not go unnoticed by Eleanor. “Money is not her only attribute,” she whispered.

When Anne finished her song, the crowd applauded. The noise jolted Richard and he desired a distraction lest he be snared by a siren’s song. Calling for a dance, he rose to his feet. 

In haste, the company sought partners, and formed up for the dance. Prince Osric of Sweden, who was only fourth in line to the Swedish throne, snatched Anne as his partner. Raymond glowered at Osric as he took a different companion.

z

With the dance Anne experienced a sense of relief at being able to blend in. She allowed herself to have fun and enjoy the company of the other dancers. The dance was a carol, and through the course of it, partners were exchanged. That feature of this particular dance made it popular. Anne left her present partner, a boy younger than most, who made gagging faces at Castile’s turned back while she tried to stiffel < only one “F” in stifle > her laughter. While still looking at the boy, she put her hand up to meet her new partner’s. The touch of that hand made her tremble. Without looking, she sensed the hand of someone confident, and strong. As she turned to see this new partner, she found herself looking into the blue gray eyes of the duke


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