August 1174—an encampment outside Troyes in the county of Champagne

Troyes was bursting at the seams—the summer market was at it's height and every inn and boarding house was packed to the rafters with merchants and housewives. Tumblers and singers jostled for the best spots in the market squares. Mercenaries and cutpurses roamed the marrow streets, searching for the shortest route to an easy profit. Indeed, so many people had descended on the town that a temporary campsite had been set up in a field outside the city walls. The encampment was known as Strangers' City, and line after line of dusty tents filled every inch of the field.

One tent stood out from the rest. Slightly larger than the others, more of a pavilion than a tent, the canvas was dyed purple and painted with silver stars.

Inside the purple pavilion, Elise was sitting on a stool next to Pearl's cradle, gently waving a cloth back and forth in front of her dauglhter's face. It was noon and even for August it was unusually hot. Elise wriggled her shoulders. Her gown was sticking to her and it seemed she had sat there for hours. Thankfully, Pearl's eyelids were finally dropping.

Voices outside had Elise narrowing her gaze at the entrance of the pavilion. André was back, she could hear him talking to Vivienne, who was nursing baby Bruno in the shade of the awning.

Elise waited, gently fanning Pearl. If André had news, he would soon tell her. Sure enough, a moment later André pushed through the tent flap.

'Elise, I've done it!' he said, eyes shining. He put his lute on his bedroll. 'Blanchefleur le Fay has been booked to sing at the palace. At the Harvest Banquet.'

'The palace? You got a booking at the palace already? Heavens, that was quick.' Elise bit her lips. 'I only hope I'm ready.'

'Of course you're ready. I've never heard you in better voice. Count Henry's steward was thrilled to learn Blamchefleur is in town. The Champagne court will love you.'

'It's been a while since I performed— I was afraid that I might already have been forgotten.'

'Forgotten? Blamchefleur le Fay? That's hardly likely. Elise, it's the booking of a lifetime. I can't thing of a better setting for Blamchefleur to step back on stage.'

Elise glanced at Pearl. Asleep. Carefully, she folded the clothes she'd been using as a fan and smiled to hide her disquiet. ' You did well, André. Thank you.'

'You might look a little happier,' André said, watching her. 'You're nervous about singing in Champagne.'

'Nonsense!' Elise said, although there was a grain of truth in André's remark. 'But I mustn't disappoint them.'