"Ah," Louis said, walking over to an unused bench along the wall, "take a look at this." He pulled a small plate glass mirror the size of a medium book out of its leather sheath. She took it and held it out in front of her face. "What do you think?" he said, folding his arms.

She looked at for several seconds before answering. "It's remarkable. There aren't any imperfections. It reflects like a metal mirror only with more detail. How did you do this?"

"It's cast instead of blown. That's what gives it the true surface. The bad news is I can't produce them any larger than that, but I'll be able to soon. Do you think Le Brun will appreciate this?"

"Probably, it is remarkable," she said turning her head from side to side as she looked at herself. "Huh," she sighed. "I don't think I will ever get used to this face."

Louis laughed quietly. "I don't know, I kind of like it. Somehow it suits you."

She smiled sarcastically at him as she handed over the mirror. "Pour me another."

Louis looked nervously across the carriage at Serge, who held the leather satchel containing the only six specimens of cast glass mirrors in the world.

"What do you think our chances are sir?" asked Serge, fidgeting nervously under Louis' watchful eye.

"Chances of what?"

"Of you making mirrors for the King?"

"Good I think. We'll know tomorrow," he said as the carriage rolled to a gentle stop in front of the town square. Louis opened the door and stepped out. "Hand me the glass," he said leaning back inside. "I'm going to secure a room. I want you and the driver to go around and casually find out whatever you can about a local glassier named Joubert. How does my wig look?" Louis asked posing for Serge.

"Good sir."

"Do you have enough money?" Louis asked.

"Yes sir."

"Good. Go then, I'll see you tonight."

It was dark when Serge and the driver walked into the Inn's small dingy dining room where Louis ate alone. "Sit. Help yourselves," Louis said. The two young men ate like lions at a kill. Louis watched for a full fifteen minutes before breaching the subject. "Well, what did you find?"

Serge swallowed a large mouthful. "He lives here in Trianon, but his shop is in Vaux. He's about forty and he's very well connected with the well to do."

"How do you know that?"

"Just the way people speak of him. I can tell he commands respect."

"Don't forget the wife," the young driver interjected, his mouth full of food.

"We saw his wife on the other side of the square."

"And?" Louis prompted impatiently.

The two young men looked at each other and fought back laughter. "And, she's enormous," Serge said as they both burst out in long laughing howls.

"Enormous?" asked Louis, studying their contorted faces.

"Yes," said Serge calming himself, "enormous. Larger than the three of us together."