Revolution - Jennifer Donnelly [114]
I held the bright coins in my hand, let them fall through my fingers. I was at war with myself. With twenty gold Louis I could run away. Away from Paris and all its death. I could start over again in some new city. Maybe find my way to the stage. Wasn’t that what I had always wanted?
With twenty gold Louis, I might be able to help the dauphin. I might be able to bribe Simon to treat him well, to allow him toys and books. I might be able to see him. I might be able to make up for the damage I’d done, for the spying, the lies. I might be able to get him out.
Such things had been talked about. The warden was ever on guard for plots, and indeed he claimed to have foiled more than one intended to liberate the queen and her children. The warden was careful and the guards were vigilant. But everyone has his price.
I picked up a coin, turned it over in my hand. The king’s head was on one side. His crown was on the other. I flipped it into the air. Caught it. Closed my hand around it.
Heads or tails. Stay or go. Redemption or freedom, I said to myself, pretending I had a choice.
I take a deep breath. For courage. I’m hoping again. Even though I know better.
Because Alex had twenty gold Louis. And they might’ve been enough. Enough to bribe a gravedigger to wheel a small, lifeless body to the Temple in the dead of night. Enough to convince a couple of guards to turn their backs. Enough to set him free.
57
29 May 1795
Orléans went to the guillotine a few weeks after the queen did, in November of 1793.
His eldest son, the Duc de Chartres, together with General Dumouriez, had defected from the revolutionary army to support the royalist cause. Orléans denounced his son, but then letters were found between the two, showing the denunciation false. He was accused of being an accomplice to Chartres and Dumouriez and of trying to overthrow the revolution.
I left the room above his apartments and went to see him in his prison cell. I was playing in the courts of the Palais again for money and went back to that room every night after I’d finished.
Orléans had been arrested some months ago. I had not gone to visit him for I had not wished to see him, but then came his trial and the verdict and I knew he would go to the guillotine soon, and I was determined to have some answers from him before he did.
Ah, a little sparrow comes to visit, he said when he saw me. Why are you still here? Why haven’t you flown away? It’s over for me. You are free.
You hoped to be king, I said.
He raised an eyebrow. Perhaps you are not as stupid as I thought, he said.
You voted for the king’s death with the others in the Assembly because you wished to rule in his place.
I did it because I had no choice. I was the king’s cousin, and as such, I was always under suspicion. I had to show my loyalty to the revolution. To not vote for the king’s death was to vote for my own.
You are saying you did not wish to rule? I do not believe you.
Of course I did. I’d hoped to rule France wisely and well. I’d hoped to free Louis-Charles and rule for him as regent after his father’s death. But that will not happen now. France is finished with kings, though I fear she is not done with tyrants.
You paid the mob to attack Versailles. And you paid them again last September, I said. The iron bars between us made me brave.
Did I, now? I must be more powerful, and far richer, than I thought.
Do not mock me. What of Louis-Charles? What was he? Merely an obstacle to your ambitions?
No. More of a stepping-stone. As he was to yours.
I faltered at that but only for a second. He is an orphan now, I said. A wretched, unhappy child. Did you vote for his imprisonment? For his abuse at Simon’s hands? You did, yes, and I helped you. With my spying. With all the information I gave you. You are a devil!
Orléans’ black eyes flashed with anger.