There was a high place here at one end, and on it sat the mother of the king, not in any state, but working at a little loom, whose beams were all carven and made beautiful for her royal hands.

There were two ladies helping her, and they rose as the king entered, as did all the others, and there was a sudden silence.
I should have been happier if only they had paid no heed to us, and with all my heart I wished myself elsewhere.

Nor did I dare look round for the Lady Hilda, and so kept my eyes fixed more or less on the ground, or else trying to seem unconcerned, looking foolish, no doubt, in that effort.

It came to me that one of my shoes was muddy, and that I could not remember having combed my hair this morning.
Then the queen rose and came to meet her son with a smile and morning greeting, setting her hands on his shoulder and kissing him, and so turned to me as if to ask Ethelbert to say who I was.
And when she heard, I knelt and kissed the hand she held to me; and my shyness went, for I was no longer at a loss for somewhat to think of besides myself.

I suppose the king or queen made some sign at this time, for the ladies rustled back to their seats, and their pleasant talk began again as if we were not present, only so low that it was like the murmur of the bees outside as we came past the hives.
Now the queen asked me just a question or two of my journey--if the crossing had been rough, and so on, and then said smiling: "But you have had another journey since then, and that handsome horse of yours bore a double burden, they tell me.