“Read. Follow.” A letter was stuffed into Chevalier’s hand and his nightshirt was yanked up over his head. When he pulled it back down, he was alone.

“Chevalier?” called Philippe from outside the door.

Chevalier stuffed the letter into his nightshirt and stepped out of the anteroom, hoping on one hand to catch a glimpse of the man who had assaulted him and praying on the other that he would not.

A King’s messenger hurried into the apartment, unannounced, and rushed to Philippe on the bed.

“Were you raised in a cattle shed?” demanded Chevalier.

“You must come at once!” said the messenger. “The King’s Circle!”

Philippe shoved the palm reader away. “Wake my wife! Do it now!” he shouted as he grabbed for his trousers and shirt.

Chevalier stumbled into his own clothes and followed Philippe into the corridor.

“I must talk to you,” he said, walking quickly to keep up.

“You’re still drunk,” Philippe replied with a shake of his head. “It can wait.”

“You don’t understand the gravity of my need!”

“Every need of yours weighs exactly the same.”

“But a great tide is stirring! It pertains to your future in the court. Your place at its center.”

“Go to bed. Please!”

Side by side they turned a corner and encountered guards in front of the War Cabinet room. The guards stepped back to let Philippe enter then drew together again, blocking Chevalier’s way.

A nervous group gathered inside, waiting as Colbert and Bontemps closed the door. The only sound was the clock on the mantle between mounted shields and swords, ticking away the time.

Colbert looked at each person in turn – Philippe, Louvois, Fabien, Marie-Therese, Henriette, and Rohan. “In the King’s book of names you will find a circle of trust, those he believes are the most loyal, faithful, and true. You are the names on that list. This circle of trust will not be broken. We all know what is at stake.”

Henriette’s eyes brimmed. “How is the King?”

“The fever is consuming him,” said Bontemps.

Colbert nodded solemnly. “Protocol now demands we begin work on the issue of succession.”

“I will not hear it,” said Philippe.

“He is stronger than a malady,” said Rohan. “Stronger than a hundred fevers!”

Colbert held up his hand. “As we hope for the best we must plan for the worst, as –”

Rohan interrupted. “Where did this distemper come from? Are we sure it’s not poison?”

Bontemps stared at Fabien, who immediately spoke up. “Whatever the cause, I promise I will root it out.”

“I hope you will be more successful,” said Bontemps.

“More?”

“When a sick man gains close access to the King I do not call it a victory.”

“The Dauphin is the direct successor but would require a Regent,” said Louvois.

“The protocol is clear,” said Colbert. “If the King –”

“Don’t say it!” snarled Rohan.