Jacques was on his knees with his trowel, filling soil around one of the newest orange trees, his shirt unbuttoned against the warming afternoon. He was so engrossed in his work he saw the royal boots before he realized the King had approached him. He scrambled to his feet and bowed. “Sire, I’m honored.”

Louis looked at Jacques and then out across the vast gardens that had been planned and created, and at those on the peripheries that were still being created. Then he said, “What does war do to a man?”

Jacques brushed dirt from his knees. “You are no stranger to it, Sire.”

“When he returns home, for example,” said Louis.

“No man leaves a battlefield the same way they entered. Many see ghosts. The smell of meat roasting on a fire can spark a memory as fresh as when it happened. Some go mad. Some take to drink. Some take their own lives.” One side of his lip hitched in a half smile. “Some grow orange trees for the King.”

“You returned as another?”

“I only felt aggrieved when I was not paid.”

“What happened then?”

“I took whatever measures were needed.”

“What did your family make of your choice?”

“I lost my family in war. Three sons, all dead, killed in your service.”

“My prayers are with them.”

“No need, Sire. There’s no place for us in the house of God.”

“There is if you are reconciled.”

“I’ve nothing to confess, Sire. I know I committed no sin.”

It was then he saw Louis gazing at the large, raised scar on the gardener’s chest. Louis nodded slightly. “If you say so,” he said.

As Louis walked away, Jacques called, “May the celebration be glorious, Sire.”

“I will make sure of it,” said the King.

The celebration was held in the palace’s amphitheater, a large, beautiful open-air auditorium in the gardens. The night was dark but the celebration bright, with fire throwers entertaining as musicians played. Garlands of ivy were hung in nearby trees, and centerpieces crafted from fruits and feathers adorned the tables. Large golden planters, as tall as a man and bearing the face of the Sun King, were filled with evergreens shaped into animals. Louis sat on a dais in the center of the amphitheater as a long line of nobles waited to take their turns paying their respects to the royal family. Marie-Therese sat to the King’s left and Louise was to his right. There was an empty chair beside the Queen, meant for Philippe, who had yet to show himself. Henriette sat beside the empty chair and Chevalier and Beatrice stood behind the King, all watching the procession.