Louvois nodded. “I agree with Fabien. There are many in court and in France whose only wish is that His Majesty was also sickening in that bed.”

“Whatever method expedites the truth,” said Fabien. “I will talk to anyone who had access to Her Highness, or access to the food or drink provided to her.”

Colbert frowned. “King Charles himself, perhaps?”

Fabien looked at each man in turn. “No one is above suspicion.”

Philippe stormed into the War Cabinet room, his face twisted in exhaustion and desperation. The ministers moved away to give him room to speak to his brother, though even apart they kept their eyes and ears turned to the interaction.

“You,” Philippe said, his voice thick with accusation. “You did this!”

Louis shook his head. “Brother –”

“You did this to her! We warned you. We begged you, yet you heard nothing but your own voice, your own desire for glory. How much pain are you willing to endure to get what you want?”

“Why are you casting this rage at me?”

“Because you deserve it. The whole world gave you counsel but the advice you took came from only one source.” At that moment Philippe saw the Montespan at the door, her hands folded, her face stoic. “Or two, perhaps,” he added.

Montcourt fastened his trousers, buttoned his hunting jacket, and drew his belt around his waist, a favorite with two silver inlay angels set into the leather. He left his room for the hallways, footfalls echoing as he passed door after door, all shut under the King’s order of sequester. He reached the end of the hallway, turned into the next, and came face to face with Chevalier.

Chevalier stared with suspicion. “The court is under lock and key, Montcourt. What are you doing?”

“My apartment has a piss pot. The hallway is sadly lacking. And I do hate to urinate in the stairwells.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

Montcourt lifted his chin. “To live as a gentleman I find I must try to act like one.”

“Challenging days, gentlemen.” Cassel strode up the corridor to join them. “I hear Fabien and his security lurchers are making inquiries.”

“Henriette’s lady was taken this morning,” said Montcourt. “Sophie de Clermont.”

“I don’t understand what they hope to get from her,” said Cassel.

“I know what I would ask,” said Montcourt.

Cassel shook his head. “If she was told anything by her mother, it was how best to hold a fork.”

“If any case,” said Chevalier, “her lady is ill. What more is there to say?”

“Very little, I should hope,” said Cassel. “For her sake.”

Chevalier looked up and down the hall. “We cannot be seen together any more. Is that understood?”

“Or what, exactly?” asked Cassel.

“I believe you might be able to guess.”

“In times like these,” said Montcourt, “it is good to know who one’s friends truly are.”

“I didn’t know I had any left,” said Chevalier.