Book III: XIV

Part I: The God-Given (II)

My baptism was one week away. One morning, Philippe and I decided to make our way to the kitchen. I always had a voracious appetite for as long as I could remember. Philippe was a finicky eater. He would only put the finest of delicacies in his mouth. But if the food was good, he could eat as much as I could. If our mother had known of our near-daily sojourns to the kitchen, she would have locked us in our rooms. As royalty, we were fraternizing with commoners too much. How could we not? They were friendly to us. Their children were uninterested in our titles and more into play. On this day, there were few people in the kitchen but there was plenty of food.

Straight away, Philippe headed for the macaroons. I helped myself to the omelets. While I poked a piece in my mouth, I saw Philippe reaching for his treats. He dropped one and chased it as it rolled under a table. One of the servants noticed him squatting down to reach it.

"Thank you," he said to the floor. "I am Philippe."

"Who are you talking to," I asked him.

"A girl," he said without looking up. I noticed a little hand coming from under the table holding the macaron he dropped. A woman gasped and reached under the table and pulled out a little girl. She was as small as Philippe, with a head full of long black curls covering her features.

"Tu es une mauvaise fille," she said angrily. "Are you stealing food again?"

"No," she said, tearfully.

"She gave me my macaron," Philippe said, his mouth full. He walked over to the girl and handed her a macaroon. "Here."

She took it, smiled, and ran out of the kitchen. Philippe gave the woman a mean look.

"Come, Philippe," I said. I could see he was about to say something awful.

He slowly turned toward me, still scowling at the woman.

"She is not nice, Louis," he said, looking at me. 

I looked at the woman as I took Philippe's hand. I did not say a word to her but I could see she feared what we might say to our parents. I led my brother away putting the incident out of my mind. A few days later, I was playing with Philippe in the hall. Our mother approached us followed by several ladies with 2 girls and a boy. Everyone stopped in front of us and bowed.

"Louis. Philippe," Mother said sweetly. "This is Gabrielle, Louis and Diane-Françoise de Rochechouart. Louis and Diane have come to play with you."

I did not know what to say but Philippe did.

"Why," he asked.

Mother seemed at a loss for words as several of her ladies tried not to laugh.

"Philippe, be polite to our guests," she said.

"Why?"

"Yes, Maman," I said quickly.

She smiled and left us with the little boy and girl as the older girl left with her mother and the other ladies.

"I am Louis," the boy said.

"Me, too," I said.

"This is my sister," he said. "Her name is Diane but we call her Françoise because she is named after our mother."

"She is a girl," Philippe said.

"I know," she said. "And you are a boy."

Philippe stuck his tongue out at her.

"Who is the other girl," I asked Louis.

"That is my other sister, Gabrielle," he said. "Papa said Maman is going to have another baby. I hope it is a boy this time."