Before Versailles by Karleen Koen Page A

you’ll sustain me in my attempts.”
    Guy bowed, and there was a chorus of giggles from the maids of honor, even a low laugh from their dreaded Catherine.
    Talk and laughter had traveled up through their windows as courtiers walked across the paving stones of a courtyard to a set of great red doors, open for the night to reveal a grand staircase that led to the ballroom. The evening was beginning.
    “Let’s stand on baptismal gate and watch the courtiers enter the king’s courtyard,” suggested Henriette.
    A colonnade on this story led to the ornate gatehouse built especially for Philippe’s father’s christening. Stone faces from ancient Rome spewed water into basins on each side of the outside entrance, and the gatehouse’s rooftop offered a lovely space in which to walk and look over all that transpired in the king’s courtyard.
    Catherine wrinkled her nose. “They’ll see us watching. A little common, don’t you think?”
    “Oh, let them see. What does it matter?” said Henriette. “We’re going to be talking and dancing with them in just a few moments.”
    Louise and Fanny looked at each other. This was the first time they’d seen Madame contradict the gargoyle. Hurrah, thought Louise.
    “I’m her slave. Her least wish is my command. Her every wish should certainly be yours,” said Philippe to Catherine.
    It was a reprimand. Catherine’s expression went rigid for a moment, but she swept out onto the colonnade with the three others, all of them imperious and very beautiful in their youth and jewels and shining eyes. The maids of honor followed.
    Will my husband defend my place to others? thought Louise. Does Madame appreciate how much she is loved?
    “Did you see the way the Count de Guiche looked at Madame?” Fanny whispered.
    Below, torches lit the courtyard. Above, there were already a few night stars in the sky. People were looking up, pointing at the new royal couple. There was bowing and laughter and waves. One hand on the iron railing of the colonnade, Henriette waved back.
    “I’d die if he looked that way at me,” said Fanny.
    Louise didn’t answer. There was no point in encouraging Fanny, to whom gossip was second nature. And it wasn’t his friend, the Count de Guiche, that Monsieur needed to worry about, anyway. Louise had eyes in her head. It was his own brother, the king.

Chapter 4

    HE BALLROOM WAS ONE OF THE MOST BEAUTIFUL CHAMBERS in the palace, almost one hundred feet long, light-colored wood highlighted with gilt paint and frescoes, enormous bays, chandeliers whose candles shone like hundreds of twinkling diamonds hanging down inside each. The woods were made a lovely golden honey color by the candlelight, and everywhere were the intricate initials of a former king and his wife and his mistress; everywhere was a carved crescent moon symbolizing that king’s motto: until the crescent has filled the whole dish, symbolizing majesty filling the whole world with the glory of his name. The king who would fill this whole world with the glory of his name hadn’t arrived yet. From the musicians’ gallery, the sound of violin and flute and hautbois spilled down over courtiers like silk ribbons.
    Louise had a moment’s hesitation as she stood on the door’s threshold, a slight pulling back into herself, as always she did at the beginning of any event, but the entrance of Monsieur and Madame before her had created such a stir that she really had only to glide along behind it. She smiled and nodded and kept herself near Fanny, who thrived on events like this, was never at a loss for words. She herself would be fine in a few more moments, particularly after she drank a goblet of wine. Glancing around, she saw her cousin Choisy and waved. He made his way over, grabbing a goblet for her as he did so. He nodded to Fanny as he handed Louise her wine.
    “That cloth flower doesn’t change the fact that I’ve seen this gown before, but the pearl earrings are perfect for your complexion.