Philippe pointed at the board. “Exposing your flanks. Dangerous. Given the terrain I’d think carefully about thinning out along the supply line. A well-timed thrust might just split you in two.” He reached and picked up a piece to move it. Louis slapped his hand away.

“I just want to show you,” said Philippe.

“Put the piece back.”

“It’s glaringly obvious –”

“Give it to me!”

Louis grabbed his brother’s hand. The two fell into a tangle, wrestling for the piece.

“I have your back and what do I get?” shouted Philippe as he twisted in his brother’s grasp. “Respect? Power? No!”

“You get money to throw away!” said Louis.

“The minute you have a chance, you belittle me!”

“Do not forget who addresses you! Give that back! We will not ask again.”

Louis felt Philippe give in. The royal “we” let him know it was time to stop. He handed the piece to Louis. “You never were good at sharing.”

“Go, play,” said Louis. “Some of us men have work to do.”

As Philippe turned away to leave, Louis put the piece back where it had been.

Angry. God, so angry! Philippe slammed into the private chamber of his wife, Henriette. She looked up from arranging a vase of flowers and it was clear she saw his mood.

“Do you think your brother will like these flowers?” she began. But Philippe did not answer. He grabbed her, tore off her skirt, and flung it aside. Then he reached up beneath her petticoat and ripped down her undergarment.

“I think I want a son,” Philippe said through his teeth as he fingered the damp crevice between her legs.

“Then,” Henriette said, her voice quavering, “then we should say a prayer.”

Philippe pushed his wife back onto the bed and unbuttoned his trousers. “Say what you like,” he snarled. “It’s not going to help you.”

Louis invited the skilled architect, Le Vau, and the well-respected landscaper, Le Notre, into his private apartment to see the plans he had sketched. The two men stood, considering the huge sheet of paper covered with the King’s drawings.

“As I mentioned to you,” Louis said, feeling ebullient at taking a final step toward his dream, “the envelope should be completed around the entirety of the lodge. Along the full length of the terrace, inside, a great hall of mirrors which should be reflected in the symmetry. We will need to buy in Venice for the glass. The gardens on this side will extend here to here.”

“Very good, Sire,” said Le Notre. “What is this large rectangle here?”

“A very big lake.”

Le Notre touched his chin. His doubtful expression turned Louis’ mood immediately. “Sire, to feed a lake of that size –”