“I do not take women, Sire,” Lucien said, offended.
“You’re too scrupulous by half. One could mistake you for a Christian.”
Lucien bit back his reply. Responding to the insult would not benefit him, or Marie-Josèphe, or the sea woman.
“Your Majesty, Mlle de la Croix’ opinion is common sense — and unlike her brother’s, it’s disinterested.”
“You’d have me believe my own blood lies to me.”
“Would this be unique in your experience, Your Majesty?”
If Louis expected the revelation of Yves’ parentage to surprise Lucien, he would be disappointed; but the King must be aware it was not much of a secret. Except, of course, to Yves and Marie-Josèphe de la Croix.
Louis drew himself up angrily, suddenly burst out laughing, stopped, and regained his dignity.
“I value your candor, Chrétien.”
“I don’t say Yves de la Croix is a liar,” Lucien said. “I do say he has good reason to deceive himself.”
“And Marie-Josèphe de la Croix has none?”
“What reason? The brother wins your favor. The sister risks your ire.”
“I cannot give up the sea monster,” Louis said. “I will not. Don’t ask me for the creature’s life, so you and I may remain friends.”
Lucien bowed. I’ve done my best, he thought. I cannot do more.
He had not expected to succeed, and though he hated to fail, he was surprised not to be disappointed.
He was angry.
oOo
Marie-Josèphe gulped wine from her silver goblet. As soon as the servant refilled it, she drained it again.
A week ago, she thought, the gift of a silver goblet from the King would have pleased me beyond all measure. Only a week! She waved away the servant and put the goblet on the floor. Getting a little drunk might benefit her courage, but getting very drunk would impede her.
Trumpets sounded a fanfare; drums announced the beginning of Carrousel. The jugglers and singers ran from the parade ground. Torches flared, hundreds bursting into flame simultaneously, filling the air with smoke and pitch, illuminating the Place d’Armes with harsh light and long shadows. The full moon hung huge and orange in the eastern sky, opposing the sun.
Sherzad had only a few hours to live.
The Carrousel teams galloped onto the practice field.
His Majesty, as Augustus Caesar, Emperor of Ancient Rome, led the procession, riding the tallest spotted Chinese horse. Its red leather harness sparkled with an encrustation of rubies and diamonds; its crest exploded in pompoms of red and white feathers. Every buckle and fastening on saddle and bridle, breastcollar and crupper, glinted gold. Red and white ribbons fluttered from the horse’s mane and tail.
The King wore a tunic paved with diamonds, while rubies nearly covered the lambrequins of the skirt and sleeves of his red leather armor. Silver ribbons, studded with diamonds, fastened his high-heeled red sandals. Gold dust adorned his bright blond perruke. A fantastic headdress of white ostrich plumes fastened with enormous rubies arched over his head; the plumes cascaded to his horse’s rump. He carried a round Roman shield. His device, the sun in beaten gold, dispersed clouds of burnished silver.
The grandsons rode at His Majesty’s right, each in a variation of His Majesty’s costume, each on a spotted Chinese horse: His Majesty on a warhorse, Bourgogne on a cavalry charger, Anjou on a palfrey, Berri on a pony. The rest of the Roman team rode dapple greys.
Lucien rode immediately behind the King. His shield bore the full moon, shining with the light of the sun.
The teams circled the parade ground at a gallop. Riding his black Spanish charger, Monsieur carried a mirrored shield, to reflect the rays of his brother the Sun King.
Lorraine rode beside him, on his matched black stallion. Together, in Japanese robes, lacquered armor, and fanciful helmets, they led their team two abreast.
M. du Maine’s following, in turbans and voluminous desert robes, rode red-gold bays. Silk tassels of all colors trimmed their silver bridles. M. du Maine carried a branch of the laurel tree, sacred to the sun.
Chartres led his band of ancient warriors, in their translucent Egyptian linen. He carried a tall sheaf of sunflowers that whipped in the wind, shedding yellow petals. His band of chestnuts challenged Maine’s bays, until the two troops raced head to head, running up on the heels of Monsieur’s team.