“You had no right to make such a promise.” Lucien, furious, never raised his voice.
“You certainly have no right to tell me to carry it out.”
Yves shook his head, confused. “But, M. de Chrétien, you told me, whatever I needed —”
“To satisfy His Majesty’s will!” Lucien exclaimed. “Not your own.”
“His Majesty cares nothing for the dead creature,” Yves said. “Only what I can discover about —”
Lucien raised his hand sharply; Yves fell silent.
“Mlle de la Croix,” he said, “you yourself begged His Majesty to study the sea monster’s skull. His Majesty has condescended to do so.”
Marie-Josèphe made a sound of despair, and buried her face in her hands.
“The wagon’s only an hour gone,” Yves said. “We can fetch it back.”
“His Majesty wishes to inspect the skull now.”
“I’ve put you in a terrible position,” Marie-Josèphe said. “I beg your pardon — will you forgive me?”
“My forgiveness cannot solve this dilemma,” Lucien said.
“Tell the King,” Yves said, “that I must prepare the skull, so it will not offend —”
“Do you suggest that I lie to His Majesty?” Lucien blew out his breath in exasperation. “I regret, Father de la Croix, Mlle de la Croix, that I cannot consider such a thing.”
22
The gardens of the chateau blazed with light. Visitors filled the paths, seeking the best vantage point from which to observe the fireworks over the Grand Canal. In the state apartments, a crowd of His Majesty’s courtiers and royal guests devoured a light collation.
The Queen’s side of the chateau was deserted.
Marie-Josèphe and Yves followed Count Lucien up the Queen’s Staircase.
Marie-Josèphe dreaded what was to come.
I’m estranged from Count Lucien’s affections, she thought. No, not from his affections — I never possessed his affections — but I hoped I had earned his regard. I cannot blame him, but, oh, how I regret it.
She and Yves had taken advantage of him. Time and again he had taken their part, and they had returned his courtesy by endangering his position with the King.
Marie-Josèphe felt more alone than she ever had in her life. Count Lucien was angry at her. Sherzad hardly trusted her. And her brother... Yves strode along beside her, grim and silent, guilty and distressed. By proving to him the humanity of the sea monster, she put him in danger of losing his vocation and his passion.
When he sent me to the convent, Marie-Josèphe thought, I could believe that if he knew what he had sent me to, he would relent. I had the company of my memory of him.
Now I have nothing. Count Lucien is right. Suffering only makes one miserable.
And if that is true, Marie-Josèphe thought, is he right about pleasure, as well?
She should feel guilty, she should regret her lack of faith, but she only felt betrayed and unhappy.
Marie-Josèphe trudged along the corridors, between lavish tapestries, orange trees, a profusion of flowers and candles, on a pilgrimage to beg forgiveness.
I could ride Zachi through these halls, Marie-Josèphe thought wildly. She could gallop across the parquet, she could clatter down the Staircase of the Ambassadors, or leap over the balcony like Pegasus; we could flee into the gardens, into the forest, and disappear.
Then she thought, I wonder if I’ll ever ride Zachi again.
The sentry allowed them to pass into the apartment of Mme de Maintenon.
His Majesty and His Holiness sat together near the open window. Mme de Maintenon, in her curtained chair, bent over an embroidery of gold thread on scarlet satin. Marie-Josèphe glanced toward her, hoping for her sympathy, for the kindness the marquise had shown her at Saint-Cyr. Mme de Maintenon never looked up.
Marie-Josèphe shivered.
It’s only the cold, she thought. Poor Mme de Maintenon, with her rheumatism.
Count Lucien bowed. “Your Majesty.”
“M. de Chrétien.”
Marie-Josèphe curtsied to the King; she knelt to kiss Innocent’s ring. His hand was cool, the ring cold against her lips. His Holiness extended his hand toward Count Lucien, who regarded him in stony silence. Marie-Josèphe curtsied to Mme de Maintenon, but the marquise neglected to acknowledge her greeting.
“Mlle de la Croix,” His Majesty said. “What has possessed you?”
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I never meant to offend you.”
“You asked me to determine the truth,” His Majesty said. “I have condescended to try — and now I find you’ve disposed of the evidence. How can I know you haven’t made everything up?”
“I’d be a fool to do so, Sire! I’m not a fool. I felt such pity for Sherzad, I never thought —”
“Pity — for a beast!” Innocent exclaimed. He turned his attention to Yves, his expression concerned. “Your association with the creature troubles me. You’re being led into serious error.”
“I’m searching for God’s truth,” Yves said.