“You might be labeled a vassal, perhaps,” said Louis. “Or a peasant. Yet you raise yourself above these men whom would gladly sweat and toil to feed their families, pay their taxes and honor their duties to the King. But you would pay nothing and do nothing. So I must ask. What is a nothing doing at my table?”

“I can find the papers, Sire. I beg you allow me to prove my worth.”

“The papers are all here, Montcourt. After an inexcusable delay.”

Louvois spoke up. “As to the delay, Sire, as I mentioned we did not wish to bother you with such trivial affairs of state –”

“I am the state!” Louis shouted. He strode angrily from behind his table. Courtiers backed away to give him room. “And we shall all soon discover where we come from. It has come to my attention that many of you are uncomfortable here on our visits to Versailles. Many of you prefer Paris, or your estates that you miss. Some only a short ride away. To all of you I say this; You will soon get used to it.” He stepped close to Montcourt and stared at the man. “Your noble birth freed you from our taxes. Your falsehood has condemned you to pay.”

“Sire, I have no money but my estate.”

“Take his keys,” the King directed two guards. They moved in, tore Montcourt’s estate keys from his jacket, and then stripped the man to his undergarments. The King handed the keys to the trembling, elderly noble next to Montcourt. “Your name?” asked the King.

“Pierre de la Croix, Sire,” said the noble.

“God smiles on you, la Croix.”

Then, as Montcourt stood mortified and disgraced beside the pile of his clothes, the King announced, “I do not know that man. He does not belong here. And the time has come to prove to me who you are. All of you. You can rest assured I will do the same.”

Nobles glanced at each other uneasily as the King returned to his table, picked up a roasted leg of stag, and took a bite.

The party continued as the King retired to his apartment and watched the festivities through a window. Full night had arrived, and with it a spray of silver stars across the black sky. A bonfire blazed brightly in a wide area between sculpted evergreen hedges as bats darted back and forth on the periphery of light.

At Louis’ encouragement, Bontemps pulled a chair up beside the King and the two sat like old friends. Candles flickered on the nearby desk, catching their faces at curious angles, reflecting in their eyes.

“I’d like very much to hear stories about your son,” Louis said.

Bontemps rested his arms on the chair. He sighed silently. “In his last hours he asked me to speak about my life with you.”

“What did you tell him?”