By Honor Bound by Helen A Rosburg

back to the palace. I shall tend to my sweet dog in the meantime myself.”
    Though dazed with disbelief, Philippe responded with alacrity. The sooner he returned the princess to the palace, the sooner he could write to his mother and Madame Dupin. And the sooner he would see his dearest sister.

    When the snow finally fell, it fell softly, silently, for three days. Bare branches lifted to the gray sky to receive their layers of white. Brown patches on the ground were covered, as were the rooftops. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys to twine amongst the gently falling flakes. The world turned white.
    Honneure stared out the kitchen window. Somewhere deep within her she knew how beautiful it was, but she lacked the emotional energy required to appreciate it. In truth she had energy for very little these days. When she heard her foster mother call to her, she turned slowly.
    Jeanne resisted the urge to ask Honneure if she was all right. She would answer in the affirmative, as she always did, though they both knew she was not all right at all.
    Madame Dupin had summoned the entire family, however, which was unusual. Jeanne prayed she was right about the reason. The cure for Honneure’s ailment may have arrived.
    “Come, dear. Madame wishes to speak with us.”
    Honneure noticed her foster father standing behind his wife, and her curiosity was sluggishly roused. “All of us?”
    “Yes, all of us.”
    “But why?”
    “Come along and we shall find out.”

    Madame Dupin received them in the library, as was usual. Her pince-nez were perched on the bridge of her nose, and she glanced up from a letter as they entered the small room. Jeanne was slightly disconcerted to see Claud standing at his mistress’s shoulder but ignored him and stared at the paper in Madame Dupin’s hands.
    “Thank you for coming so promptly.” Madame glanced up at them briefly. “I received several letters by special messenger today. One is for you from Philippe.” She handed the sealed envelope to Jeanne. “I also have one from Philippe. And one from Marie Antoinette, the dauphine.”
    Jeanne thought she might faint. She clutched her letter to her breast, afraid to look at either her husband or her daughter, afraid even to breathe. As if from far away, she heard Honneure’s faint gasp of surprise.
    “I will come straight to the point,” Madame Dupin continued. “Philippe has written to me that Honneure has been offered a position at Court.”
    “ Mon Dieu !”
    “My sentiments exactly, Paul. The princess has several dogs of which she is inordinately fond. Apparently Philippe has persuaded her that Honneure is just the person to care for them.”
    “But … but how can it be true?” Paul said.
    “It is true. Here is the princess’s letter confirming the offer.” Madame lifted a piece of paper, which clearly bore the royal seal. “If Honneure accepts, she will be given a small room in the palace near the dauphine’s chambers, so she will be on call at all times to tend to the royal pets.” Madame Dupin turned her gaze at last to Honneure. “This is almost unheard of good fortune, Honneure. What do you say to the offer?”
    Despite her initial shock and her longing to see Philippe, Honneure had a ready response. “I could not possibly leave you or my family. You have been too good to me. I will not repay your kindness and generosity by abandoning you for a better position.”
    “You are loyal and honorable to a fault, my dear.”
    “But wise perhaps,” Claud interjected. Ignoring Paul’s hard stare and Jeanne’s narrowed gaze, he went on. “What if it doesn’t work out? The Court is notoriously fickle. What if she spends the next few years caring for the dauphine’s pampered darlings and is then sent packing on a whim? What will become of her? She’s almost past marriageable age as it is. If she leaves, she may miss the chance for a good marriage and a normal life.”
    “It is something to consider,” Madame Dupin agreed.