“What were you two thinking?” She scowled at us, with her arms crossed in front of her broad bosom. This alone caused Antoinette and me to tremble with fear. She never needed to yell; she needed only to whisper, and men would cower. “Do you know how worried Countess von Brandis was? How worried I was? Of course you don’t, because you are selfish girls who think only of themselves.”

I dared to look into my mother’s gray-blue eyes, now as stormy as the world outside, but I cast my gaze back down as she glared at us.

“I probably shouldn’t even ask whose idea this was,” she growled. “Should I, Charlotte?”

“Mother, I—” At that precise moment, a glob of mud fell from my hair. It bounced off my nose and fell with a splat on the brown stone floor.

Her scowl deepened, and her face became crimson. “You are future queens. One of you will be the queen of France. Charlotte, you are always the source of gossip, and your attitude is appalling You are the elder sister. You should be setting a pious example for Antoinette. From this day forward, you will be separated from each other.”

We began to protest but she raised her hand.

“Not another word. Antoinette, you will have a private tutor, and Charlotte, you will be placed with Josepha and Amalia. There will be no more secret confidences, no more contact at all whatsoever.”

With that, our mother turned on her royal heels and left. Antoinette’s grip on my hand tightened. “What are we going to do?”

“We’ll pretend to follow her rules, of course,” I said. But deep in my heart, I feared that not even my well-placed bribes would get us out of this.

October 15, 1789

Dearest Sister,

Do you remember when we were children and confined to the palace? You were driven mad from the boredom. Even then, you were reluctant to be placed in a cage, and given where I am now, I can understand how you felt.

Those days, though troubling for you, were some of the happiest days of my life. When I close my eyes, I can still see Josepha by the fire, her face bent over her books, and Amalia and Karl, lost to the war games of toy soldiers. Back then, most of the family was too busy for us. What a wonderful childhood. I had you all to myself, from our games with Brandis to our endless adventures. Though the last one ended in disaster. I still laugh at the memory of mud falling from your head as you attempted to plead your case to Mama. These are the memories I return to over and over during these dark times.

We may not be able to visit again for a long time, but know that I cherish these memories when you were my Charlotte, and we were happy.

Your Loving Sister,

Antoinette

About the Author

DIANA GIOVINAZZO is the co-creator of Wine, Women and Words, a weekly literary podcast featuring interviews with authors over a glass of wine. Diana is active within her local literary community as the president of the Los Angeles chapter of the Women’s National Book Association. The Woman in Red is her debut novel. For more information, please visit her website: https://dianagiovinazzo.com/.