Chapter 235 Traveling Through the Middle Ages 235

Chapter 235: Through the Middle Ages 235

Unlike most people, who regarded Guillaume’s hunting trip to Château de Robendou as just another royal outing—after all, hunting was a common pastime for male nobles of the time—Louisa sensed something unusual about this particular excursion. First, it was too sudden; she hadn’t received any prior indication from Guillaume, which was unlike his usual methodical approach. Second—and this wasn’t mere self-flattery—she knew full well that Guillaume was quite taken with her.

Infatuation didn’t equate to fidelity, but given that Guillaume had only recently returned from war and had been constantly busy since, they’d hardly had time to enjoy marital intimacy. Under such circumstances, it would have made more sense for Guillaume to stay where she was rather than impulsively leave her behind to go hunting with his knights at a hunting lodge.

Louisa didn’t think Guillaume’s behavior indicated any displeasure toward her, even though she had disciplined a woman rumored to potentially become his mistress—especially since Guillaume had clarified that things weren’t as they appeared and that he had no interest in Matilda whatsoever. Even if the rumors had some basis and Guillaume were angry with her, he wouldn’t have reacted this way.

Guillaume wasn’t one for subtlety—why would he express dissatisfaction in such a roundabout manner? It was far too convoluted!

Still, Louisa couldn’t deny the oddity of Guillaume’s behavior, though she couldn’t quite figure it out either. But not understanding was fine by her. She had the typical modern way of thinking—that human thoughts were complex—even two people who spent their entire lives together couldn’t claim to fully understand each other, nor was it necessary to analyze every little thing.

In short, as long as it didn’t disrupt daily life, occasional quirks could be left alone. People’s primary concern should always be themselves.

So after a brief moment of surprise, Louisa quickly put it out of her mind. Her workload over the past six months had been overwhelming, compounded by delays caused by welcoming Guillaume back and the weddings of Prince François and Princess Alicia. The pile of work before her seemed never-ending!

"...In half a month, we’ll host a banquet specifically for the gentlemen of the Construction Committee. It should be grand but not excessively so, as this is more of a working banquet rather than a lavish, ostentatious celebration. The decorations must reflect taste, the food must be exquisite, and the entertainment should be appropriately arranged..." Wrapping up her morning’s work just before lunch, Louisa reminded her court lady to keep this event in mind.

The court ladies who served Louisa had been with her long enough to grasp her priorities and expectations from tone alone. Without unnecessary chatter, they simply responded with a crisp "Yes."

Just as Louisa sat down for lunch, a servant suddenly announced that His Majesty the King had left Château de Robendou and was already outside the city, due to arrive at any moment.

"Why so sudden?" Louisa grumbled under her breath—his departure had been abrupt, and now his return was equally unexpected. Typically, hunting trips to hunting lodges lasted much longer. Beyond continuous hunting, many high-ranking nobles used the opportunity to take a break from official and household duties. Such vacations could range from half a month to half a year—anything was possible.

But now, less than a week had passed! There were no emergencies in the capital requiring Guillaume’s immediate return... This was far too sudden. More importantly, Guillaume hadn’t sent any advance notice, leaving the court completely unprepared.

Though Louisa was capable, as were her staff—and the palace workers were the best of the best when it came to handling unexpected situations—ensuring that Guillaume’s sudden return was met with the seamless hospitality befitting a king didn’t erase the unnecessary hassle. Heaven knew how much chaos would erupt behind the scenes to maintain the appearance of seamless preparation for his comfort!

Of course, Louisa’s complaint was fleeting. On one hand, this wasn’t a major issue for her—she was the one giving orders, while others handled the execution. On the other, Guillaume was the king, and such "privileges" were well within his rights... This couldn’t even be called capricious!

Thus, by the time Louisa’s afternoon tea rolled around, the preparations for the king’s return had been managed with an organized frenzy—so flawlessly executed that no one could tell some tasks were still incomplete. After all, the official welcome was only part of the process; the evening banquet and the arrangements for the royal chambers still needed last-minute attention.

Louisa personally welcomed Guillaume, ushering her road-dusted husband into the [medieval] bathing chamber to wash away the fatigue and dust. Though Château de Robendou wasn’t far from the capital—located in the surrounding suburbs—the journey still took over half a day on horseback given the era’s transportation conditions.

Even modern travelers would feel weary after half a day in a cushioned carriage. For an ancient rider galloping along dusty, uneven roads (and these were relatively well-maintained by the standards of the time!), the experience was far more taxing. Even those accustomed to such travel wouldn’t refuse a bath and rest afterward.

While Guillaume bathed, Louisa didn’t skip her afternoon tea, though she relocated it to the warm sitting room adjacent to the king’s bathing chamber. There, she enjoyed the treats and beverages meticulously prepared by Jeanne—the head of her private kitchen. Though Jeanne no longer needed to handle every task personally, she still insisted on preparing the queen’s meals herself whenever possible.

Jeanne was well aware that her rise from a farmer’s daughter sent to a convent as a maid to her current position—where even powerful nobles sought her favor—was entirely due to the queen’s patronage. While Jeanne wasn’t particularly power-hungry and had long cared only for her culinary craft, she wasn’t a saint either. After such a dramatic change in fortune, she naturally wanted to preserve her new life. Beyond that, her loyalty to the queen was unwavering.

Louisa happily savored her tea, and by the time she had finished and moved on to leisurely pastimes with her ladies-in-waiting, Guillaume finally emerged from the bathing chamber—bathing was still a lengthy process in those days, with no concept of a "quick shower."

Guillaume had washed his hair as well. Though it was short, it was just towel-dried, no longer dripping. When he sat beside Louisa, a servant approached with a dry towel, intending to carefully pat it dry further. But Guillaume waved them off—sitting by the fireplace, he wasn’t cold, and such details didn’t bother him.

"Were you and the ladies doing needlework earlier?" Guillaume remarked, eyeing the sewing tools on the small table.

This might have seemed like a rhetorical question, but it wasn’t. Louisa had always been somewhat lax with needlework, which, in an era where noblewomen prided themselves on being accomplished in embroidery, made her seem less refined. Guillaume didn’t mind, but he knew it was entirely possible for Louisa to watch her maids sew while she simply observed.

Louisa smiled and nodded. "Yes, look—we were doing ‘bead embroidery.’ Though tailors have always sewn beads onto clothing, shoes, and hats for decoration, it was never as intricate as embroidery. Perhaps because they lacked the skill for finer beadwork in the past—or saw no need for it?"

"I’ve heard that in some Far Eastern countries, people sew beads into elaborate patterns, so I had craftsmen experiment with making finer beads. Some are tubular, some round, some oval… Using them on clothing still feels too stiff—it reminds me of the gloves from your court dress. But for shoe decorations, they’re perfect."

Indeed, while bead embroidery as such wasn’t common in the West at the time, sewing beads into decorative patterns wasn’t unheard of—it just lacked the refinement seen in the East. For instance, the vestments of high-ranking clergy and the formal attire of nobles often featured extensive beadwork, especially in women’s fashion.

What stood out most in Louisa’s memory was likely Guillaume’s coronation robe, particularly a pair of gloves—thick, red silk gloves with patterns entirely composed of tiny pearls and coral beads, already resembling bead embroidery. But honestly, Louisa didn’t find them beautiful—just stiff. Wearing such things must have been pure torment.

As for beaded shoes, those were much better. Even in Louisa’s previous life, during an era when comfort was absolutely essential in fashion, many folk-inspired or vintage-style shoes often featured beadwork—gorgeous but still comfortable to wear (the only "burden" might be worrying about the beads coming loose).

Guillaume looked at the half-finished item, which was already clearly recognizable as a shoe, but said nothing. After all, what could he possibly say about elaborately decorated women’s indoor slippers? Still, he was especially caught by the pair Louisa held in her hands—clearly the one she’d made herself. It was a pair of soft-soled satin slippers with pale green soles and uppers, delicately adorned with tiny beads.

Pale red coral beads, gilded tubular beads, and white pearls formed a pattern that was lavish yet tasteful.

Of course, what stood out to Guillaume wasn’t the beauty or luxury of the shoes—he’d seen plenty of fancy things in his daily life. What struck him was imagining Louisa wearing them. She had dainty, pretty feet—pale and delicate—and they would look even more charming in such slippers.

Guillaume had never thought himself the kind to care about stuff like this, but now he knew better.

“Are you going to wear these?” He hesitated for a moment before finally asking.

Louisa assumed he meant whether she had made them for herself, and nodded. Nowadays, there were very few people she would personally take the time to make a gift for, especially something so clearly feminine. Theoretically, aside from herself, only Countess Balzac or Queen Mother Anna might receive such a handmade item.

But that was just theory. Since both women were “stepmothers” who had no real respect from their stepchildren and stepdaughters, in reality, any shoes Louisa made by hand could only be for her own use.

The beaded slippers still needed some finishing touches. After nodding, and seeing that Guillaume had nothing else to say, Louisa went back to sewing with her maids. Guillaume watched her kill time so casually—realizing that all this while, he had been the only one agonizing.

He realized that Louisa didn’t love him, or at least not deeply. Though it wasn’t a secret, having it spelled out so clearly still felt like a blow. Was it wounded male pride, or was it because he truly loved her and resented the lack of return? He couldn’t tell.

Yet, he soon found he couldn’t even blame Louisa. Not because he was reasonable—knowing full well that from the start, their marriage had been his plan, and Louisa had never been the one making choices. In a way, she hadn’t had a choice. As a medieval man and a true ruler, he wasn’t exactly progressive.

It was simply because he loved Louisa deeply. Compared to that love, nothing else mattered.

He had loved Louisa too much for too long. He couldn’t decide to stop loving her just because he realized she didn’t love him as much, nor could he even reduce his affection or distance himself. After all, such things weren’t up to personal will—if they were, there wouldn’t be so many irrational lovers in the world.

Still, understanding all this didn’t change the fact that seeing Louisa so “oblivious,” even “carefree,” left Guillaume with a quiet sadness.

"...I should not speak of love's delights,

For love to me is but a fleeting shade.

I find no lover true to heart,

...

He wears this face for me alone,

I've never tasted love's sweet tone,

Nor shall I, past or yet to come." (Note 1)

By then, tired of sewing, Louisa had arranged for some background entertainment—music or poetry recited nearby, much like how modern people play videos while doing other tasks.

Guillaume, usually indifferent to such things, actually listened this time—perhaps when troubled by love, even the most rational person reveals a sentimental side. He couldn’t help thinking that this poem, written centuries ago, spoke of the same struggles people faced centuries later. Indeed, the world changes, but people remain much the same.

But that was all. In the end, Guillaume was no weakling, and he hated wavering or giving up without a fight. That was why he had returned so quickly. After a brief low, realizing the truth, his first instinct was not to run away.

He had come back to see Louisa. Nothing else mattered—what mattered was that they had sworn vows before the altar. She was his queen! They would spend their lives together, and with so much time ahead, surely he would make her fall in love with him.