“I saw Beatrice enter the whorehouse in town,” she said accusingly. “She spoke to the apothecary there and ordered two bottles of arsenic.”

Fabien moved the glass along the paper. “So? A fine cure for toothache. I use it myself from time to time.”

“And one bottle of Eros. Claimed to aid the vigor of amorous coupling.” Fabien put down the glass and stared at his assistant. She continued, “Which gives me cause to believe you and she have become…intimate.”

Fabien’s voice took on the chill of winter. “I pay you to spy on others, not me.” He hitched his head toward the door, ordering her out, then turned his attention back to the paper.

Bontemps led the striking soldiers along the wide, sparkling corridors of the palace and into the War Cabinet room where Louis waited with his guards, smiling. The soldiers, filthy and unkempt, stared at the opulence around and above them, their faces registering wonder, suspicion, and resolve. Some bowed grudgingly to the King. Others removed their hats.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” said Louis. “It is an honor to welcome you. I live here but this is not my home. It is a home for France and her aspirations.”

The men shifted on their feet and said nothing.

“I want to thank you for showing me the error in my thinking. You were right to put down your tools and refuse to work.”

Philippe appeared at the door and Louis looked straight at him. What I have to say is for you, brother, he thought, even more so than these soldiers.

“I’ve brought you here today to ask your forgiveness and to try to renew your faith in me,” Louis continued. “You are, all of you, an army in the service of your King, whether on the field or scaffolding. You’ve risked your lives for France. It’s time for France to give you something in return.” With that, Louis pulled the cover from off the central table to reveal the designs for a grand structure, a large and intricate building with countless rooms and gardens and courtyards. “This shall be known as Les Invalides. It will boast the finest medical facilities, refectory, dormitories, and church. It will be located in Paris near the river. Every soldier wounded fighting for France will be treated there, and every solider unable to return to his village will be able to spend the rest of his life there in comfort, free of charge.”

Louis nodded at Bontemps, who stepped up with an ornate box.

“I’ve also struck a medal in honor of our recent victories,”

Louis said. “I wish to give one to each of you. But the first to receive it is the man to whom I owe the most. A brave brother soldier, known to you all. Philippe, Duke of Orleans, who I am also honored to call my brother.”