“No. I will do it myself.” With that Louis strode for the door. He paused before exiting and turned back to Fabien. “Secure the palace,” he said. “No one enters. And no one leaves!”

Within minutes the command reached throughout the palace and every door, window, apartment, and gate was shut and locked.

The shutters covering the Montespan’s bedchamber windows were opened and the flash of bright light caused the lady to stir on her pillow and angrily cover her eyes. “Too bright!” she complained. “Who compels me to wake?”

“The Sun,” said Louis, moving in front of the window and blocking out the strongest of the light.

The Montespan sat up, squinting, and brushed back her hair. “Where did you go? I had to kiss my pillow in the night.” Then she sensed Louis’ dark mood. “What’s the matter?”

The King sat down beside her. His eyes were red-rimmed. “Our dear Henriette,” he said.

Ah, Henriette. I must be careful what I say. I must not offend him. “I’m not surprised she fainted. She hardly eats a thing.”

“She is gravely ill.”

The Montespan angled her head. “I must go to her, then! She’s in her chamber?”

“No, she is in mine. She came to find me.”

Jealousy turned in the Montespan’s heart. “I know I would do the same,” she managed. She rose and beckoned her lady to help her dress.

Louis watched as she was changed from nightgown to day gown. “I’ve sequestered the palace,” he said at last. “All movements are restricted. If you wish to go, you best go now.”

The Montespan nodded, hoping the King would escort her or at least kiss her before she left, but he only sat and looked at the wall, and so she went out alone and unsatisfied.

A servant had added more wood to the fire in the fireplace and stoked it to warm the room, but a chill no fire could touch hung in the air. Marie-Therese prayed anxiously in the corner, her appeal to God muttered over and over. Bontemps waited beside his cot, ever attentive should he be needed at a moment’s call. Philippe stood by Claudine, watching Henriette’s every move.

Claudine placed her hand on Henriette’s belly and pressed gently. Henriette screamed and thrashed, kicking Claudine in an attempt to push her away.

“Restrain her!” Claudine shouted, and several footmen rushed over, snatching up scarves and belts to tie Henriette’s legs and arms to the bedposts.

“You’re killing her!” shouted Philippe. “This is madness!”

“I know it’s painful,” said Claudine, “but I have to find the source. I have to do this.” Then to Henriette she said, “Will you help me? Your Highness, please?”

Henriette stared, her breathing fast and shallow, her face streaked with tears and blood, but she nodded. She closed her eyes. She readied herself for the fresh agony ahead.