"Give me one," said the king, and then as the girl handed him one of the longest and reddest of her splendid cargo, the king lightly swaying the flower, brushed the girl's flower face with it and surveyed her mockingly. "You are a pretty child," he said. "You might have had a king's love. Well, well, you were a fool. Does not Thibaut d'Aussigny woo you?" "He professes to love me, sire, and I profess to hate him." "He was sorely wounded last night in a tavern scuffle." The girl gave a little cry of disappointment. "Only wounded, sire?" The king laughed heartily. "Your solicitude is adorable. Be of cheer. He may recover. And we have clapped hands on his assassin. He shall pay the penalty." Katherine drew a little nearer to the king. Her eyes were very eager, and there was eagerness in the tones of her voice. "Sire, I bear this man no malice for hurting Thibaut d'Aussigny." "You are clemency itself. It would never do to have a woman on the throne. But to hurt a great lord is to hurt the whole body politic. He shall swing for it." The girl frowned slightly. "This man should not die, sire. Thibaut was a traitor, a villain--" Louis' mirth deepened but he kept the gravity of his speech. "Take care, sweeting, lest you wade out of your depth. But you women are fountains of compassion. If this knave's life interests you, plead for it to my lord the Grand Constable." The girl made a gesture of despair. "Thibaut is pitiless," she said. Her mouth hardened as she thought of the man she hated and of her own failure to thrust him from her path, but it softened again on the next words of the king. "Thibaut is no longer in office. Try your luck with his successor." She leaned forward beseechingly. "His name, sire?" Louis looked at her thoughtfully. "He is the Count of Montcorbier," he said. "He is a stranger in our court, but he has found a lodging in my heart. He came under safe conduct from the South last night. He is recommended to me highly by our brother of Provence. I believe he will serve me well, and I am sure he will always be lenient to loveliness." The king smiled affably as the ready lies slipped smoothly from his lips. He was amusing himself immensely with the threads of the fairy tale he was spinning. "You shall have audience with him." The king paused. He caught sight on the steps of the dark familiar figure of the royal barber, who was approaching him deferentially. He called to him: "Olivier, by and by, when my Lord of Montcorbier takes the air in the garden, bring this lady to him. You understand?" He turned to Katherine again and once more tickled her chin with the swaying rose. "Now, go, girl, or my wife and your queen will be wanting her roses." Katherine again saluted the king and went slowly up the steps into the palace. Louis watched her as she went, watched her until she was out of sight, and then turned sharply upon his servant. "Well, goodman barber, what of François Villon?"