The King Without a Kingdom. Морис Дрюон
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Our three ladies maintain in Melun and in Meaux … Meaux is the dower of Madame of Évreux … a semblance of a court. They have a chancellor, treasurer, master of the household. Most lofty titles for such reduced functions. One is often surprised to find there people that were thought dead by all but themselves, so forgotten were they. Ageing servants, survivors from former reigns, old confessors of late kings, secretaries, keepers of secrets all too well known, men who had felt powerful for a moment when they were so close to power; now they trudge through their memories, attributing importance to themselves for having taken part in events which no longer have the slightest importance. When one of them begins: ‘The day the king told me …’ you have to guess which king he is talking about, amongst the six that have occupied the throne since the turn of the century. And what the king said is ordinarily some grave and memorable confidence like: ‘What fine weather we are having today, Gros-Pierre …’
Therefore it is almost a godsend when a dramatic affair occurs such as that of the King of Navarre’s imprisonment, the Widows’ Court is suddenly awoken from its slumber. The hour arrives for everyone to rouse, murmur, bustle and stir … We should add that for the three queens, Monseigneur of Navarre, amongst all the living, is uppermost in their thoughts. He is the beloved nephew, the cherished brother, the adored husband. No matter that in Navarre they call him the Bad! Incidentally, he does everything he can to stay in their good graces, visiting them often, showering them with presents … at least, he did before he was walled up … cheering them with his tales, speaking to them of his troubles, fascinating them with his ventures, charming as he can be, playing the respectful young man with his aunt, the affectionate equal with his sister, the man in love with his little girl of a wife, and all out of calculated self-interest; to keep them like pawns on his chessboard.
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