“A messenger arrived during the night, Sire. The ship carrying Her Highness left Calais the day before yesterday. All being well, she will have arrived in Dover by now.”

Louis rubbed his chin pensively. “Was I wrong to send her?”

“His Majesty always does what he considers best for France.”

“If she does not return?”

“She will, Sire. I am certain.”

“What makes you certain?”

“She is loyal. And because her place is here.”

“But what is her place? To be a dutiful wife?”

“That is not for me to say.”

“Would you want to be a woman, Bontemps?”

“Oh, no, Sire.”

Louis smiled vaguely. “Neither would I.”

In the King’s bedchamber, the dressers quickly and expertly changed the King from his morning clothes into newly polished shoes, white ruffled shirt, and black velvet vest, while Bontemps read the list of the day’s scheduled meetings. When Bontemps mentioned the mid-morning meeting with Bishop Bossuet regarding the Protestant question, Louis shook his head. “Cancel it. I’ve neither the time nor humor for one of his endless speeches.”

“Very well, Sire,” said Bontemps. “At eleven the royal astronomer Cassini will deliver an address, and between eleven o’clock and noon you are due to sit for a portrait. After lunch –”

Louis held up his hand. “Yes, yes, it’s all fine.” He stood still as the dressers added the final touch, an embroidered, gold coat. The King considered his reflection and duly satisfied swept from the room for his busy day.

The State Room was bustling with royal business. Beneath the vaulted, painted ceiling and seated at his desk, Louis signed the countless documents handed him by Bontemps. Colbert and Louvois stood apart, waiting their turn to speak to the King. Rohan lounged nearby in a window seat, the morning sun warming his shoulders.

As Louis handed Bontemps a signed paper, he noted Louvois and called him over. “You’ve a letter for me?”

“From the King of Sweden, Sire.”

Louis put down the quill. “Open it. Tell me what it says.”

Louvois broke the seal and read the letter aloud. “The King has agreed to break his alliance with the Dutch and support us.”

“Good. All we need now is England at our side.” Louis retrieved the quill, dipped it in the inkwell, and signed yet another of the papers given him by Bontemps.

“What word of the prisoner?” asked Rohan from the window. “The one who tried to kill Her Highness?”

“Monsieur Marchal is questioning him,” said Bontemps.

Louis signed the last paper. “Tell Marchal I want to see him.” Bontemps bowed and left the room. Then the King motioned to Colbert. “What news of the Trianon?”

“They’re experiencing problems with the tiles, Sire,” Colbert said. “They keep falling off. Le Vau wonders whether Your Majesty would consider changing the façade?”

“No. Without the façade, the building holds no interest. And the canal?”