Revolution - Jennifer Donnelly [95]
That night, I helped him wash, put him in his nightshirt, and—after he’d kissed his parents, his aunt, and his sister—tucked him into his bed. He was uneasy and could not settle and demanded many stories from me.
Never leave me, Alex, he said, after I’d finished the last one, the White Cat. You promised you wouldn’t.
I will not, Louis-Charles, I said, but there may come a day when you leave me.
Never. I will never leave you. And when I am king, I shall make you my chief minister, so you will always be near me.
I smiled at this, reminded him that underneath my valet’s uniform I was but a girl and that girls could not be ministers. Then I said he must rest now or his mother would be unhappy. After he had fallen asleep, I quietly packed his favorite soldiers and horses, his lotto and draughts, into a small wooden box and left it at the foot of his bed, hoping that whoever came for him would see it and take it so that he might have something to amuse himself with on the long journey.
Good night, Alex, he murmured as I left his room. God bless you.
God would not bless me. I knew that. For I had cast my lot elsewhere. But for Louis-Charles’ sake, I turned in the doorway and whispered, God bless you, too, little prince. And God speed you.
20 May 1795
It was early morning. The sun was not yet fully up. I was in my room, dressing for work. And then suddenly, I was on the floor, with Orléans standing over me. His blows were so hard that for days after I wore the imprint of his ring tattooed in purple on my cheek.
Where are they? he shouted. Where did they go?
Who?
Do you think me a fool? he bellowed, and hit me again.
Stop, please! I cried, trying to crawl away from him.
They are gone, all of them! They escaped during the night. You knew they would and did not tell me! he shouted.
I knew nothing! I lied.
They had accomplices. They must have. There would have been letters. Money changing hands. You must’ve seen something.
I told you all that I saw. I swear it!
There were more blows, a great many more, until finally I told him the truth. About the king’s plans and his destination. And how the queen had sworn me to silence.
You damned fool! he shouted at me. What have you done? He grabbed hold of my jacket and pulled me up off the floor until my face was only inches from his own. Pray that they are caught, sparrow, he said. Pray like you have never prayed in your whole miserable life.
He let me go and I fell back to the floor. I could not see, there was too much blood in my eyes, but I heard him leave my room. It hurt to move, to breathe, to think. I lay on the floor I know not how long, until finally, I heard footsteps.
Poor player, a voice said from the doorway. My master has used you badly.
It was Nicolas, the old man. He set a basin of water down beside me and wrung out a cloth. I cried out as he wiped the blood from my face.
Things go badly for the duke, he said. The king is gone, and the duke’s hopes with him.
Things go a damned sight worse for me, I said.
The duke is angry, and he has cause to be. If the king reaches Austria, he will get up an army. He will retake France.
Then why is he not glad? He said he wished to help the king. What better help than freedom?
Nicolas laughed.
I do not see what is so funny, I said.
No, you do not, and that is why he uses you. You are blind, child. Blind to all but your own ambition. Orléans is the first prince of the blood and next in line to the throne should the king’s own Bourbon line die out. Did you not know it?
I did not know it and I did not care. I wasn’t listening anymore. I’d had enough. Enough of Orléans. Enough of Nicolas. I tried to get up.
What are you doing? he asked.
Leaving this place. And the devil Orléans. Since the king is gone, he has no further need of me.
Nicolas grabbed my arm. He was no longer laughing. Listen to me, child, he said. Do not go from here