December 5, 1789
Palace of Versailles
Versailles, France
Ashes swirled through the beaming afternoon sunlight when I tossed another log onto the fire. With the palace servants on strike, the hearth had not been properly swept out for days. I dusted my hands as I glanced back at France's sickbed. He was fast asleep, and thick velvet curtains darkened that entire half of the room.
I returned to my station next to the bed and reached for the book I had been quietly reading aloud. The movement roused him from a fitful sleep.
His purplish eyelids fluttered as he groaned. The brown locks framing his face clung to his skin. Using my handkerchief, I dabbed at the beads of sweat on his forehead. I then drew a ladle of water from the bedside basin and carefully held it to his lips. He swallowed a bit.
"Thank you, ma petite," he murmured through chapped lips.
I waned at the weakness in his voice. "You're welcome."
Much like the Americans before them, the French were ready to shake off the shackles of monarchy. Calls to action in May of 1789 resulted in concessions from the King, but not enough to satisfy the powder-starved people. As violent protests spread across the country, France's future became uncertain. Fear reigned in the hearts of men on both sides.
"I still don't understand," I murmured, watching the ladle slowly sink back into the water. "I was never ill during the Revolution."
"This is not revolution," he rasped. "This is anarchy."
I bit the inside of my lip. I couldn't help but recall the French flags waving in the streets of New York City, in support of the rebels. In spite of the government's official stance of neutrality.
"You know in your heart what is right," I said absently.
"I know in my heart that they are insane," he bit back with a cough.
Wanting to calm him, I placed my hand on his shoulder. His furrowed brow softened at my touch, and his eyes drifted shut. "Everything will be made well," I told him. "You'll see."
He hummed reluctantly.
I sank back into my seat as he drifted back to sleep. Taking the Bible back into my hands, I pulled the ribbon aside and cleared my throat.
"'But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; they shall walk, and not faint.'"
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Ma petite | My little one.
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