For, on the stroke of noon on that day, she learned that her sister
had become the legal wife of Charles of Durazzo, having been publicly
married to him at an altar erected in the open air and in sight
of all the people before the church of Saint John by the Sea, not
a bowshot distant from the great gates of the Palazzo Durazzo.
The marriage had been solemnized by Duke Charles’s chaplain, the
necessary dispensation for the marriage of cousins, one of them being
a minor, having been received from Rome the day before; and, at its
conclusion, the newly-wedded pair had faced the spectators hand in
hand, and had solemnly declared that they took one another as husband
and wife, calling upon God and the people to bear witness to it.
Their announcement had been acclaimed with tumultuous vociferations
of applause and delight; after which the Duke and Duchess of Durazzo
received the Papal benediction, prior to being escorted in procession
round the city by their men-at-arms and the sympathetic populace to the
beating of drums and the blowing of trumpets.
So that Charles of Durazzo was now the husband—and, it need hardly be
said, the master—of the thirteen-year-old heir to the throne. And when,
after curbing the useless rage in her heart, Joan summoned the pair to
receive her congratulations, she realized her folly in quarrelling with
that all-daring and remorseless man; also she understood that nothing
short of the throne itself—let the price be what it might—would ever
satisfy his lust of power and glory and hate.
Thenceforth the temptation of Joan to be in very truth at once the
real ruler of her own dominions and at the same time the arbiter of
her own destiny increased and grew to terrific powers; the desire to
satisfy her wishes absolutely in everything became a kind of diabolical
possession, sweeping away every consideration of virtue and of mere
worldly prudence; save only when, in rare intervals of reaction, she
would fall upon her knees in the solitude of her chamber, her face in
her hands, sobbing as though her heart would break with the horror of
her situation.
CHAPTER XII
A MEDIÆVAL NIGHTMARE
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account