Oh, the horror! Eleanor knows it is Fleur-de-Lis Day, and she shivers in her solar when she contemplates the possibility of her hapless dear sister’s soon-to-be arranged marriage with the rheumy Count of Thiercy of France. The fleur-de-lis symbol of the French monarchy seems sinister to her, even more so because Mary will have to leave England for the forsaken country of France, wedded to an aging count to achieve the selfish political aspirations of her liege lord, the lecherous William of Litchfield. France! ‘Tis so far away. The alternative, however, is nearly as bad — since that handsome, oh-be-still-my-heart Lord Hugh has just asked for Mary’s hand in marriage. That cannot be! Eleanor wrings her hands and paces her solar.
Truth be told, Lord Hugh haunts her own dreams, waking Eleanor in the middle of the night. What can she do? How can she allow Mary to wed Hugh, when she herself cannot stop longing for him? But, how can she give Mary up to the disgusting Count of Thiercy, he of the dreaded fleur-de-lis country?
Lord Hugh….Lord Hugh…Eleanor gazes out her window at the forest…how can she resolve this dilemma?