King Philippe observe the Norman emissary's entrance with a calm expression and the hint of a smile. His eyes betray the slightest twitch at the man's barb, but he courteously sends a squire to fetch a chair for his guest, a rare honour in the Court of France. His stare hardens when he sees the Saracens and waves a servant away to take care of the exotic guests.
The King lifts a white-gloved hand to silence the Court.
We are grateful for your presence mes seigneurs. Sieur John Kenneth, I shall have my chancellor, Monseigneur Étienne de Reims, take care of the administrative details regarding an entente between Our Majesty and the Duke of Normandy but we are inclined to agree to the principle of an alliance. In the meantime gentlemen, welcome to the Kingdom of the Franks.
The King lowers his hand and nods to an elderly man of imposing stature standing besides him whose red and white flowing robes clearly identifies him as a cardinal of the Holy Catholic Church. At the clap of the clergyman's hands, young men bring in additional chairs for the expected arrivals. Tables are pulled to the sides of the room were a rich banquet is being served.
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