In the Court of the Sun King

Chapitre VI :J'irais En L'Enfer Pour Vous

Paris, 1656 ~ Le Palais des Tuileries 

Louis had held Marie in his arms for half an hour as she emptied her eyes of all tears. She inhaled the scent of him; felt the warmth of his chest. He whispered in her ear that he loved her; kissed the tracks that the tears had left on her face. He was her rock in the midst of the storm.

Now Marie sat, unmoving and half dead outside in the gardens. She could hear every word argued between Louis and his mother in the Queen's apartments above. She wasn't sure if Louis knew that the window was open, or that she sat below. But she flinched each time the harshness of his voice clashed with the stony tone of the Queens. Louis had never once raised his voice in her presence, and she was suddenly grateful for that. 

"She is not royalty." Marie could practically see Queen Anne's stoic face, the stiff way her upper lip curled when she was being disagreed with. 

"She is more royal than any with our blood in their veins!"Dear, sweet Louis. She fought down another surge of tears at the mere thought of him. 

"Louis, France has been left in your hands." Queen Anne replied steadily. "Everything that you do for the rest of your life will be for the good of your Kingdom. France is your bride. Not a low ranking Italian noble."

"Then why must I marry at all?" Louis argued. "Let me keep Marie. I will be married to France."

"France requires allies." The Queen countered firmly. "Maria Theresa is a far better choice."

"I do not love Maria Theresa!" Louis thundered, the heavy clicking noise reaching downward telling Marie that he was pacing tirelessly in front of his mother. 

"But you love France?"

"Of course."

"Then you will marry Maria Theresa." The Queen spoke as if there were no more logical an answer. 

Marie could listen to no more. The Cardinal had evidently already spoken to the Queen. Neither could risk Marie upsetting the balance of the French monarchy. She held no power, nor riches, nor influence of any sort. All she held was Louis' heart.

And that was clearly not enough.

Marie made up her mind that night. She loved no other but the Prince of France. But he did not belong to her. He belonged to his kingdom. 

She would go where her uncle would send her. It was best for Louis. And she would go to hell for him.

  *****⚜️*****

Versailles, 1685 ~ Le Palais de Versailles

Marie was called upon in her chambers later that day. It was not the handsome servant boy from the day prior. He was currently tied up in Hortense's bed. Unfortunately, Marie recalled with a shudder, quite literally.

The King had invited her to a private audience in the War Room. She was not at liberty to refuse a direct summons from the Monarch of France, so she accepted. Marie wanted there to be no doubts about why she was there, so she chose not to redress into a fancy gown, instead keeping herself in the simplest one - which was still extravagant for her standards, and made no effort to change her hair.

The servant led her from her room (but not before looking at her in a most disdainful fashion) to a separate part of the palace, stopping in front of a grand set of oak doors. She knew not what to expect, so she simply nodded to the servant and allowed him to push the doors inward for her. 

The room beyond was no less awe inspiring than the last few that she had seen. The ceiling rose to a jaw-dropping height, lined with writing coils of gold and painted with the greatest of skill to behold several scenes of the Sun King in glory. The walls and heavy curtains were the colour of wine; making the room seem both bloody and indulgent at once. Bronze statues of Greek mythological heroes littered the edges of the marble floor. But the real centerpiece of the room was the grand marble relief that dominated the wall over the fireplace mantle. It showed King Louis on a warhorse, trampling the enemies of France under hoof. Glory sat as a winged angel behind the monarch, reaching up to place a crown of laurels on his head.