The Rose of Provence

By Susanna Lehner

Adventure, romance, history and fiction meet in this novelette that flies the reader to medieval France.
The story takes place in the middle of the 1500s, partly in Paris – in the royal court – and partly in the fascinating Provence province. Amrita, the beautiful good witch is the chaperon of Catherine Medici, wife of the royal heir. Catherine finds herself in a difficult situation: her marriage with Henri Valois, prince of Orléans, has been infertile for ten years, while from her husband’s lovers, illegitimate children have been born already. Her infertility further weakens Catherine’s effect on Henri. Anyway, he is wisely influenced by his number-one concubine, Diane de Poitiers, who is twenty years older, but pretty and clever. Amrita – using her magical abilities – tries to help her mistress, while she knows that Diane is jealous of her as well. However, she does not take into account that Michel de Nostredame, the famous plague doctor, turns up in the court, whose heart she broke during her years back in Provence.
Michel, by throwing his prophetic abilities into the scale, says something to Catherine – the future queen – that she is glad to hear, and something else that strikes her in the heart. However, time justifies everything and Michel will be known to posterity as Nostradamus.
The doctor discovers the girl’s treasured secret, and Amrita gets into deadly danger, from which even Morgan, the irresistible, mysterious earl is unable to rescue her this time.
If you have already read “The Golden Panthers” adventure novel, and took a liking to the characters – Amrita and Morgan – you will certainly like this novelette, because this is the prequel of the “panthers”. But, if you started the Amrita Collection with this story, and you are curious about how the life of the protagonists develops nowadays, then read the sequel as well!
Just like in the case of “The Golden Panthers”, in this story, fantasy and magic merge with real historical figures and places.
In the e-book, you will find a special gift as well: the recipes of the rose dishes and drinks that are mentioned in the story, and the enticing pictures of the prepared delicacies await you. The unique recipes and the artistic food photos were made available by Monika Halmos, gastronome.
Enjoy the reading and bon appétit!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Susanna Lehner
• Release date: Feb 22, 2014
• ISBN: 9789630872478

Susanna Lehner

Susanna Lehner lives in Central Europe, in Hungary. This is the country that gave the world - among other things - the Rubik's Cube, the helicopter, Vitamin C and... Zsa Zsa Gabor! She works as a lawyer in the capital of Hungary, Budapest. However, writing has also been an important part of her life, even before her legal studies, then, after graduating from university, she worked as an editor-journalist for years. Currently, she is primarily writing stories in addition to her law career.In her first novel - The Golden Panthers -, she united her favorite fields of interest: history, mythology, geography, spirituality and adventure. In a prequel novelette - The Rose of Provence - she also tells about Amrita and Morgan. Tales of Oscar contains funny stories about a wise red cat. This ebook is for adultish children and childish adults as well.Now she is working on a mystic crime story, which takes place on El Camino, the ancient pilgrimage route in Northern Spain. Regarding the location, the story is based on the author's own experiences, since, similar to Shirley MacLaine and Paulo Coelho, she also completed the almost eight-hundred-kilometer-long pilgrimage.

Book preview

The Rose of Provence

by

Susanna Lehner

Arian Books

The characters in the novel are partly fictitious, partly historical figures. The plot of the story is partly based on actual events and is partly a work of imagination.

Note from the author

I would like to thank you for choosing my book, I hope you enjoy it!

Feel free to contact me and let me know what you thought of the book:

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Website: www.susannalehner.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/SusannaLehner

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Copyright © Susanna Lehner, 2014 (Smashwords Edition)

Translated by Tímea Boglárka Abonyi

Revised by Delilah & Tracy Brown

ISBN 978-963-08-7247-8

All rights reserved

TABLE OF CONTENTS

The Princess’ Lady

Bloody Brocade

Infetile Decade

Ruby of Provence

The Plague Doctor

Red Rose of Arles

Star of the Valois shines

Glance behind the Veil

Vengeance

Flames flare up

Appendix: Historical figures and places in the novel

Appendix: Recipes of the rose dishes and drinks in the novel

Appendix: Book recommendation

Chapter 1

The Princess’ Lady

Louvre, Paris – 31 March 1543

Do you think the army of fancy guests will notice that I’ve just got out of the bed? The man patted the naked bottom of the woman stretching lustfully beside him.

If any of them have ever seen the same satisfaction on their lover’s face after spending the night together, then they certainly will, hummed the woman and coquettishly took a flower-fragranced bonbon between her lips from the silver bowl beside the bed. However, that is why your wife won’t find out anything, she laughed ironically. If what you say is true, and she is really as cold as an icicle. Because then, she cannot know this face.

You know, Diane, that both of us were almost children when we got married, and none of us had any experience. Though, since then, I’ve lavishly compensated for the deficiencies with others, but Catherine obviously couldn’t have done this. At first, she couldn’t have learned anything from me and now, I hardly feel like going to bed with her, the man pulled his mouth.

Henri Valois was not the only French noblemen in his middle twenties. But the women, who lured him to bed, did not give themselves so easily to him, not because he was the rightful heir to the throne, but because he was said to be a unique lover. He was not the most beautiful man in France, but the carefully trimmed reddish-brown beard framed an attractive face, and his hazelnut-brown eyes were also talkative: they spoke the blood-boiling language of passion.

You’re so chivalrous, Henri. You protect her in spite of the fact that in over ten years, she has not given birth to an heir, not a single child, noted the woman irascibly, and started to put on her clothes.

Diane de Poitiers was exactly twenty years older than the crown prince, but the signs of withering have hardly shadowed her body. She had flawless skin, full breasts, and it was not a coincidence that her thick maroon hair and finely chiseled face inspired numerous painters. Her beauty, her shrewd mind and nearly thirty years of experience – which she gained in various beds – taught her such tricks that have chained Prince Henri of Orleans to her for nine years.

However, you are not short of children if we take your bastards into account as well, Diane added dry. But none of them can be king, ever.

What’s wrong with you? It hurts that you cannot bear me a child anymore? the man asked as he also got up.

God forbid! A few years ago, I could have given birth to children, but I took appropriate measures to avoid that. You know that I already have two grownup daughters, one of them is a year older than you, and the other is only two years younger. The last thing I want is to have my child be of the same age as theirs.

Then leave me alone with this topic, you know that I don’t like it.

It’s time for you to go, the guests are waiting, the woman looked at the wall clock. They are celebrating your birthday after all.

The castle’s assembly hall was full by the time Henri popped in. The guests were freely conversing around the groaning, long boards, covered with appetizing dishes and heady drinks. Besides their flamboyant clothes and luxurious jewels, it would not have been necessary to have additional finery, but busy hands decorated each and every corner of the hall with colorful flowers. The aroma of the spicy roast meat and the stout Burgundy wine mingled with the stupefying fragrance of the roses and lilies to finally merge with the delightful sound of the chamber music filtering from the nearby hall.

The music and the murmur of the loose conversation ceased in a moment when the prince entered. All eyes were fixated on him, cheerfulness twinkled in them. Only the bloomy glance of the young woman, sitting at the head of the table, stood out from the crowd and Henri did not see anything else, just the reproach heaping from the grayish-blue eyes.

Do you think I’m blind? hissed Catherine when the prince sat down beside her. You are coming from one of your whores again, and I can guess from which one.

You are not in the position to haul me up for anything, whispered Henri. Or shall I call you on account for when you will bear me a boy? Or at least a girl? Because we all know that it’s not my fault.

The otherwise average features of the woman became even paler. She pressed her narrow lips and wrapped up in headstrong silence.