“If the King dies, or if he is incapable of exercising his duties, a regent shall be appointed.”

“But who?” asked the Queen.

“That,” said Colbert, “is the choice before us.”

The King’s Circle glanced at one another and the clock ticked.

Masson and Claudine entered the King’s bedchamber through the rear, secret door, to find the King in bed, sweat-soaked and raving. Bontemps and Marie-Therese stood by, their faces tight with fear.

Masson examined the King and then took a bottle from his medical box. He lifted Louis’ head from the pillow. “Majesty, drink this. It is an herbal cordial to allay your pain and aid your rest: laudanum, saffron, and bruised cloves.”

Louis turned his face from the bottle and looked at Claudine with pained eyes. She shook her head ever so slightly.

“Sire, I beg you to listen to your trusted medical advisor,” said Masson, pressing the bottle to Louis’ lips.

Louis addressed Claudine through fever-dried lips. “What…do you say?”

Claudine looked at her father then back at the King. “In… in the beginning a malady is easy to cure but difficult to detect. But in time, if allowed to grow, the ailment will be easy to detect but difficult to cure.”

“When you last had a fever, what measures did you take?”

“To permit my body to cure itself, it was necessary to purge. There is an herb, sagewort. It grows wild on the edges of the forest.”

Louis nodded with effort.

“Fetch your remedy,” Bontemps ordered Claudine. “And quickly, but with a calm air. No one must know of his condition.”

As Claudine hurried out, Louis turned his head away from Masson. “Leave me.”

“But Sire,” said Masson, “a physician must attend you.”

“All of you, leave. And bring me Madame de la Vallière.” The King sank back into his pillows, exhausted, the illness pulling him back into troubled sleep.

The Montespan found Henriette and Marie-Therese in the corridor leading to the Queen’s apartment, and she took hold of Henriette’s arm.

“What is the news?” she asked, her brows knit and her lip quivering. “The King was not at Mass and you know how people gossip.”

The Queen looked away.

“Majesty, please! Rumors are flowing. To know the truth might stop them.”

“His Majesty is unwell,” said the Queen. “That is all.”

“Why such secrecy?”

“So that rumors do not start,” said Henriette.

“Did someone tell Madame de La Vallière?”

The Queen nodded. “They will.”

“Then…it is serious.”

Marie-Therese looked at Henriette, then she nodded.

“What…what would happen if –” the Montespan began.

“There is no if,” answered Henriette sternly. “He will be well.” She and the Queen walked off, leaving the Montespan alone.

“Yes, of course he will be!” she called after them, but wasn’t sure they heard her.