You all raise good points and I will try and address them in turn from oldest to newest.
quicksaber (1): A very good analysis, and indeed that seems to be her primary, main motivation. As will become apparent she came to the past with a very specific goal. That goal is to avoid the danger she mentioned before, and she feels that by doing this she will bring peace to the world. But will it? Will it prevent or cause the danger? We can only wait and see!
Aliasing: Possibly....
Sather: Yes indeed. That is a most interesting point. Is it not possible that she could be causing the thing she sought to avoid, or worse? Only one way to find out!
Loki: A glorious ruler, yet, as we shall see, not without flaws.
Arakhor: Well, by this stage the French are a much smaller relative part, and they do hold or at least claim Ireland through the British Crown. I think it's as good a rendition as I am capable of.
c0d5579: LOL! I love that! Brilliant.
quicksabre (2): Well, she is a bit of a feminist...naturally she has to be. Well, as for time paradoxes, I work on a different system than most, at least when it comes to Miss Grey and Talena. Because of the way they came back they effectively skipped timelines, starting their own unique version of reality. More will be explained...in time.
Thank you all for your comments!
Chapter 23 - Echoes of the Past – The Fallen Crown
17/10/1479
He knew they were coming.
A breathless messenger had carried the news to the King of France that a delegation was coming. King Louis XI, by the Grace of God King of France, waited. He fretted at being caged like an animal. What he would not have given to leave this palace, or to draw his sword and lead a last charge against the English dogs. But no, he had to wait like a tamed beast, awaiting their favour.
There was commotion at the door, and Sir Jean the Castellan could be heard arguing. Finally, he stepped aside and the door to the chamber opened.
Though time had turned the position of King of France into something less grand than it once had been, the room was still hung with expensive works and maintained a lovely view over the grounds of the Palais du Louvre.
The English emissaries entered; two armed retainers, a Bishop, a nobleman, and finally a woman. The woman was finely dressed, and walked with great assurance, as if she was the leader here.
Louis glowered in dislike. Was it not enough that some Queen in London claimed to be his overlord without sending another woman here as though she had power over him? What was worse he knew of this woman; his father had warned him of her.
The English bowed, but not for long. Their lack of respect angered King Louis. Finally the woman stepped forward.
“Your Majesty, I bring a message from Her Highness Queen Mary.” She held out a parchment sealed with the Queen’s own ring.
The King glared at it, not taking it. Finally a servant took the paper and handed it to the King. Opening it, Louis looked at the closely worded writing. Finally he looked up at the woman.
“Is this some sort of joke, woman?” he asked acidly.
“No. The time has come for the crown of France to become fully integrated into the realm of England. Therefore your services are no longer required.”
Louis’ jaw tightened, his fist clenched, crushing the parchment. “By what authority does one woman tell another woman to command me? She has no rights, no claim to my throne. I am the King of France and-“ he begun.
“You are King of nothing, your Majesty, save what Queen Mary wills. Now that time has ended.”
Louis stood, his face red. “I will not submit to this monstrous regiment of women, this cavilling tribe of usurpers and heretics!” He pointed at the woman. “I know you. You are the sickness which pervades the heart of these lands. I know of you from my father that it is you who stands behind every throne. And I will not be your tool!” he shouted.
The lady stood her ground, unruffled. “Perhaps not, Majesty, but if you would care to look out the window?”
Louis glared at her, but did go to the window. There, in the courtyard, stood a score of armed retainers. Outside the walls he could see a column of dust and the shining of metal on armour.
“Her Majesty has raised a force of ten thousand, and they wait at Compiégne under the Prince of Wales himself. They wait but for our word, or if we do not return.”
Louis glared at her, staring deep into her dark eyes. “Curse you, woman, for you are a witch, a harlot, a jezebel.”
She smiled back. “Perhaps, Louis, I may be those things. However, you are no longer King.”
That last comment stung the most, and Louis felt his anger rise. For a moment he considered drawing his sword and striking down this woman, but then he thought of his wife, his daughter. Instead, in a fit of rage he pulled the crown from his head and hurled it to the floor with all his might. The crown, worn for this occasion specially, crashed and broke. To Louis it was a very fitting analogy to what was happening to him.
“You win, woman. Do what you wish with me, but leave my family alone. Have you no pity?”
She held up a hand. “I am not here to hurt you, merely to return you to a comfortable exile. Queen Anaïs and Princess Isabelle will come to the court of her Majesty. They will not be harmed.”
Dejected, the King walked over and slumped back on his throne. “I do not trust you, woman, but I have no choice. Sir Jean, tell the Queen and Princess to pack swiftly and come here. You will allow them an hour to do so?” he asked.
“That is acceptable, but they should not try and escape,” she said.
Louis looked at his broken crown and then back at her. “One day, woman, you will pay for your insolence.”
“We shall see,” Lady Mendenhall replied calmly.