Alone in the hallway, Claudine studied the shelves on which her father had collected body parts in jars and buckets, the ripe and sometimes festering fruits of his surgeries. Tumors. Gout-swollen hands. Boil-infested feet. Hearts. Bowels. Eyes and tongues. She looked back to make sure her father had not followed then reached into a bucket and scooped out a bloody mass. She wrapped it in a cloth and stole away to her bedchamber. Closing the door, she sat at her table, and opened a journal in which she had made countless sketches of organs and limbs. She unwrapped the cloth, studied the bloody organs, then began sketching on a blank page with the heading, “Female Reproduction: Womb and Uterus.”

A large board had been set up in the center of the royal lodge’s War Cabinet room. The board was covered with models of castles, fortresses, and tiny soldiers and horses. As a child, Louis would have found these items just right for fun, fantasy play. But to a king war is never a game. War is real. War means the difference between a kingdom and a country of slaves.

Louis stood at the window as his generals worked out a plan, a plan that would carry France into its first war under this King, a war against the Spanish for their arrogant and daring refusal to pay the dowry for the Queen, the Infanta Marie-Therese.

“If we are to emerge victorious in the Spanish Netherlands,” said Louvois, “we must claim our prize with both hands. The north and the east. Two fronts working together.”

Louis frowned. “Two fronts? We discussed the single column.”

“Your Majesty being so preoccupied with other affairs of state, we thought it best to –”

The door opened and Philippe sauntered in, dressed grandly in a red jacket with yellow bows. The generals bowed while Louis crossed his arms.

“Leave me, all of you,” Louis said.

The generals bowed and exited.

Louis walked to the war board, keeping his eye on Philippe. He cocked his head accusingly. “You spent fifty thousand on shoes. I saw the report.”

“Ah, but you haven’t seen the shoes.” He extended his foot, revealing exquisite mules with white heels.

Damn him! Such frivolousness! Yet Louis held his control. He reached out and moved several tiny soldiers closer to Bruges. Perhaps Louvois’s plan had merit. He’d have to think it over. “When I asked you if you had my back, brother, I meant you would guard it, not remove it.”

“You build your palace. I wear my clothes. As you’ve said, perception is everything. But I tell you this. If you let me go to war I would not only have your back, I would bring you glory.”

“What do you know of war?”