A painstakingly written note lay sealed on the table by his bedside. The note within read, ‘Your Grace, I wished to let you know, the physician tells me it is merely a strain to my ankle, and though I must not stand upon it for some time I am permitted to hobble about if I take care and use a stick. I expect I shall be spending some time in the library. Might I hope to be favoured with a moment of your time tomorrow?
devotedly yours, Summer Rainault’
Henry lay on the bed as he read the note and he sighed as he fell against the bed, he had council in the evening but he knew it would be rude to not accept this invitation.
He undressed quickly and lay back on the bed as he fell asleep wondering what the girl would ask of him if she had wished to see him, for she had said that the palace was a bore and he could not help but agree with her on those words.
He sighed, he supposed he would see such things tomorrow.
The peace of the library was soothing after the way her maid and the castle servants had fluttered about getting her there. Bertha had pleaded with her not to leave her bed, in fact, but Summer was adamant: she’d not be holed up inside her rooms all day. She’d go mad if she couldn’t get out at least a little.
Fortunately, Henry’s library held copies of several manuscripts she had been wishing to read, including the Roman de la Rose and Lancelot, Knight of the Cart. Happily she submerged herself in the lyric writing.
Henry was making his way to the library when he was called away to the council again, he stood in the room as he was told of an assassination attempt against him and he sighed.
“Find them,” he said, “Have them hung for treason, and for attempted assassination. Has it been discovered when they intended to do such a thing?”
“At the hunt my lord,” they told him, “They wished to catch you during the hunt.”
Darkness superseded the sunlight spilling through the windows, and Summer laid the manuscript aside, carefully pushing herself out of the chair. She was oddly disappointed, though reason said there was no reason she should be. He was the King. He’d work to do.
She’d just wander the castle for a while, where there were walls to catch her if she stumbled again.
Henry was now making his way back to his original destination, the library, without even realising that he had picked up his pace he made his way there and found himself slightly out of breath. He thought for a brief moment why he had been rushing.
He would not know if the Lady Summer had waited for him, for he knew the hour was late that he should arrive here for her. But she was a lady and with that he was honour bound to come and see upon her.
For she was injured and he would like to know how she was managing, he thought of her ankle and of her shooting. It was a shame she would miss out on the hunt, he was sure she would have been a great contribution to the hunting party.
Summer hadn’t gone far, absorbed in a tapestry that had caught her eye. One hand on the wall to steady herself, she touched the threads gently with the other, tracing the figures stitched on the fabric. Half-consciously she slowly rotated the strained ankle, foot lifted up behind herself.