‘I did not expect . . .’

‘No, nor I. Truly, I did not expect to be making my will so soon. But it is your right and my wish that you should have your share. But more than this, I will leave you my books, Jacquetta, my beautiful books. They will be yours now.’

These are treasures indeed. I kneel at his bedside, and put my cheek to his cold hand. ‘Thank you. You know I will study them and keep them safe.’

He nods. ‘In the books, Jacquetta, in one of them, somewhere is the answer that all men seek. The recipe for eternal life, for the pure water, for the gold that comes from soot, from dark matter. Perhaps you will read and find it when I am long gone.’

There are tears in my eyes. ‘Don’t say it, my lord.’

‘Go away now, child, I need to sign this and then sleep.’

I curtsey and slip from the room, and leave him with the lawyers.

* * *

He does not allow me to come to him till the afternoon of the next day and even in that short time I see that he has lost a little more ground. His dark eyes are duller, the great beak of his nose seems bigger in his thinner face; I can see he is failing.

He sits in his great chair, a chair as big as a throne, facing the window so that he can see the road to Arras, where the peace talks are still bickering on. The evening sunlight shines in the window making everything glow. I think this may be his last evening; that he may be setting with the sun.

‘This is where I first saw you this very castle, d’you remember?’ he asks, watching the sun go down into clouds of gold, and a pale ghost of a moon rise in the sky. ‘We were in this castle, in the entry-hall of this very castle, for the trial of the Maid?’

‘I remember.’ I remember only too well, but I have never reproached him with the death of Joan, though I do reproach myself for not speaking out for her.

‘Odd that I should be here to burn one Maid, and then find another,’ he says. ‘I burned her as a witch, but I wanted you for your skills. Odd, that. I wanted you the moment I saw you. Not as a wife, for I was married to Anne then. I wanted you as a treasure. I believed you had the Sight, I knew you were descended from Melusina, I thought you might bring the Stone to me.’

‘I am sorry,’ I say. ‘I am sorry I was not more skilled . . .’

‘Oh . . .’ He makes a dismissive gesture with his hand. ‘It was not to be. Perhaps if we had more time . . . but you did see a crown, didn’t you? And a battle? And a queen with horseshoes on backwards? The victory of my house, and the inheritance of my nephew and his line going on forever?’