Matilda Empress by Lise Arin Book Tour and Giveaway :)
Matilda Empress
by Lise Arin
Genre: Historical Fiction
Matilda, a twelfth-century Empress of the Holy Roman Empire and daughter of Henry I, is twenty-four years old and a widow. She returns to her father's double realm of England and Normandy and is promptly married against her will to Geoffrey, a minor continental nobleman. When she is absent from England at the time of her father's death, Matilda loses her throne to her cousin Stephen despite their ongoing and secret love affair.
For almost twenty years, anarchy reins, and their passion fluctuates between hatred and obsession. The only hope in sight is Matilda and Stephen's two sons, whose rightful claim to the throne may finally end the bloody and endless war.
In the vein of Philippa Gregory's The Other Boleyn Girl, Matilda Empress follows the real history of the early English monarchs, and what happens when a strong woman at the center of great upheaval refuses to play by the rules laid out for her.
I am the Dowager Empress
Matilda, twenty-four years old and a widow. I travel on a ship bound
for England, my homeland. I enjoy the sensation of speed, and relish
the early morning fog that surrounds me like a cloak. I always stand
upwind from the crew’s stench and stretch my face into the gusts of
fresh air that swell our sails and tangle my veil and braids. I
inhale deeply of the brisk breeze, for it is the breath of our
Heavenly Father. To keep my mind occupied, I chant the blessings of
Christ: “Tranquility, amour, purity--discipline, strength,
form--rule, custom, terminus--road, counsellor, foundation--heart,
blaze, majesty--essence, lion of creation.” Each day I scan the sky for
the sea birds that will herald the coastline, as vultures are the
harbingers of a corpse. Death and upheaval are two faces of the same
coin. Cancer defeated my husband at Utrecht, revoking my whole
future. If I had had a son, I would have reigned in his stead, during
his minority. Instead, the Duke of Saxony is elevated to the throne
of the Holy Roman Empire. Having turned over most of the imperial
regalia, all but one seal, I am put forth on the ocean, to a new
beginning. Although many forget my English origins, I do not aspire
to wed any of the minor German princes who compete for my hand, as a
means to remain in my adopted country. Neither do I wish to immure
myself in any European convent, to spend the rest of my days outside
the ebb and ow of all the world’s affairs. Over
the years, my
father’s letters brought me the tragic tidings of the death of my
mother, and then of my only legitimate brother, drowned in the
English Channel. His Majesty remarried, in the hope of siring another
legitimate son. Unfortunately, his second queen has not born any
offspring. Lately, the king sleepwalks, troubled by nightmares. He
dreams that his peasants desert their furrows and his barons their
fortresses, part of some violent revolt; he alone takes the field to
reclaim the peace. In truth, his power is well established, yet fears
for the future security of his empire plague him. Now that I return to my
native land, His Majesty determines that I shall be queen of England
and Normandy. His barons must accept his daughter, if he is to have
no son. This new destiny suits my aspiring spirit. Educated to reign,
I am well used to wielding authority. I will serve my father’s
family, as I did my husband’s. I will be a splendid queen, worthy
of praise. Often, I am spellbound by
the waves breaking tumultuously around the prow of the ship. Do their
force and crash echo my inner strength? Will I be able to sail into
my father’s kingdom, and claim my due? Behind the stern of our
vessel, the sea has been flattened so that a white trail of foam
stretches out behind us. Need I fear that I am not the boat, but the
water, deflated, suppressed, made quiet again? I berate my own ignorance of
astrology, examining the stars in the wide sky above me, but unable
to decipher the meaning of the patterns in the firmament. Instead, I
count the calls of the swooping gulls, prognosticating my future
wealth and fertility. I study the glistening entrails of netted fish
presented to me by the rough deck hands, and try to interpret therein
the likelihood of my glorious ascendance to the throne. I do not have complete
confidence in what is to come. For who am I? What is my worth? I am
the Holy Roman empress; there is none who sits higher, or comes
between me and the throne of heaven. But I am my father’s unmarried
daughter, to be disposed of according to his will. I can walk among
the English court with my head held aloft, with none daring to meet
my eyes, and yet I resume my place as an ivory pawn upon King Henry’s
chess set. On the other side of Europe, I dispensed the law with an
iron st. And now I shall be forced to sheath my mail in silk and
manipulation. My face is struck from the imperial coinage. I have
lost my currency. I am the Holy Roman empress,
but my greatness tumbles overboard, into the abyss of the ocean. To
the world, I am no one, a child, a head without a crown. I must
remember that I am stripped of my honors. It will serve me no purpose
to cling to my former status, to remember with pride that I was
divine. This will be a hard lesson, that of renunciation. How swiftly
shall I learn it?
Lise Arin has a PhD in English Literature from Columbia, and an undergraduate degree in History and Literature from Harvard. She has two children, and lives with her husband in New York City. This is her first novel, although it has been in the making for twenty years. Please follow @lisearin on Instagram and Twitter.
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