“I have nothing to do here,” said Sapientia, striding back to her father’s chair. “If you made me Margrave of Eastfall, as you promised, then I would have lands of my own to administer until—” She broke off, had the grace to flush.
“Sit,” said Henry. He did not glance at his courtiers, but he knew they were all listening. “I do not wish you to leave my side until you are safely brought to childbed.”
Sapientia fidgeted, glanced toward the other end of the hall where servants prepared tables for the night’s feast, and set her mouth in a sulky frown.
“I will ask our clerics,” said Henry, setting a hand on her arm placatingly, “what copies we have of these agricultural treatises, perhaps even the ones mentioned in the Life of Saint Radegundis. You may have them read to you.”
Sapientia considered this. She sighed. “It’s a fair idea, Father. But I want an Eagle or two for myself as well, so that I may have people to send at my own beck and call. It is only what is due my new consequence, isn’t it?”
“It would be fitting,” he agreed, aware, as he always was, that every soul in the hall waited on his judgment. He glanced toward Hathui, newly returned from her errand to Quedlinhame, then around the room. Four Eagles were in attendance on him right now, many more out on some errand or another, such as Wolfhere and his young companion who had journeyed south to Aosta with the renegade biscop, Antonia.
Theophanu had retreated in silence and during the exchange had gotten all the way to the door unremarked. Now, looking about, Henry saw her just as she stepped outside into a soft rain. Liath still stood, obedient, beside the door.
“There is one I would be willing to part with,” said Henry. Hathui looked up sharply. Hugh did not look at all. “She is young and strong, and she has proved herself at Gent. I have also heard it said that she is very accomplished for a common Eagle. My clerics say she can read.”
Sapientia grimaced. “I don’t want one who can read so that everyone will remember that I can’t and Theophanu can. And anyway, she’s too pretty. I don’t like her. What about this one, Father?” She gestured toward Hathui.
Reading the simple upward quirk of an eyebrow, Rosvita deduced that Henry had had enough—either of Sapientia betraying her lack of wisdom and patience before the assembled court or of himself for allowing it to go on. “You may take the one offered you, daughter—or none at all.”
“Princess Sapientia,” interposed Hugh gently, “is it not true that one Eagle is as like to another as are the field mice to our eyes?”
“But she’s educated. They all say so. It was all the clerics were talking about when we arrived. Don’t you remember?”