our first accommodation was to be Linlithgow Palace. This was one of Mary of Guise’s favorite palaces, and the household lavishly welcomed us. There were feasts and on the final night poetry readings and a concert too. It was like being in a celebrity entourage sixteenth century style, just as exhausting and twice as smelly.
But I really liked Mary of Guise. She was pretty, smart, vivacious, and so tall it was a little like hanging out with a fashion model. The second day, we met to sit together in one of the gardens surrounded by summer scents and the bright colors of the blooming herbs. Bees buzzed around.
I was wearing my blue dress. She was wearing a black dress accented with sparkling jewels, not quite matching the season, but sort of like wearing Prada to the countryside — she was so elegant she made it work. I wished I was wearing Prada too.
She smiled. “I have a gift for you, Lady Kaitlyn.” She passed me a box wrapped in fabric, with a wide damask bow.
“Thank you, that is... I wasn’t expecting a gift, thank you. Should I open it now?”
“Yes, it is something for you, in the fashion of France.”
So I untied the bow and opened the box. Inside were two sets of beautiful gown sleeves. My gowns had places at the shoulder to lace in new sleeves, but I didn’t have any extras yet. One of these sets was black velvet with jewels along the edges and the other set draped long at the wrists, accented with golden fabric. “They’re beautiful! Thank you so much, your highness.”
“You’re welcome. I feel an affection for you, Lady Kaitlyn. You are a foreigner here, but you are resigned to calling it home. As I am. As my daughter feels towards her new home in France. Sometimes I see you have a sadness within you and I wanted to give you something beautiful to take your mind from your worries.”
I clutched the box. “Thank you, this really means so much.”
We both looked out over the garden. She said, “Did I tell you, Lady Kaitlyn, that this is where my Mary was born?” She pointed up at the windows of a corner room. “This is my favorite castle, but whenever I visit I am filled with sadness. Three of my sons died very young. Two passed from this earth on the same day. I believe it was because of the nursemaid’s failings. Have I told you this before?”
I winced at the idea, having briefly been a nursemaid myself, but said, “No, you never told me that. I am so sorry for your loss.”
“I also am separated from my son, Francis. I had to leave him when he was but three years old to come here to be married.”
“That must have been so devastating.” I took a deep breath, not easy in so many tight layers. “I am separated from my children too. My son is three years old. And my daughter is very young.”
She nodded. “Ah, you have a daughter, I understand now. It is our daughters who pull our hearts with worry. My own Mary, who was separated from me to marry the Dauphin of France... she is there and I am here.” She shook her head sadly. “Ah, Lady Kaitlyn, you have never mentioned it before, but now I see — this explains your sadness.”
I nodded. “And it explains yours.”
“It is a difficulty for us, to have our children in the care of others. Why did you have to leave them, did duty call you away?”
I said, “A little, sort of like that. I didn’t want to leave them, that’s for sure, but I had to, and now it will be a long time before I’m to return home, if at all.”
“I have oft wondered on your sadness, I am glad to understand it now. I do not know if the sleeves will help much, but at least you will be beautiful through it.”
After that conversation we grew even closer. She sought me out and confided in me and drew me into her inner circle.
I loved being her friend, it gave me something to do. Within her circle of ladies-in-waiting, I gained a whole new friend group. We talked about life in France and England, about political intrigues and courtly gossip, kings and queens and princes, a lot about princes. And when life in the entourage got too tiring, I would steal away to meet Magnus at the towering fountain in the