Three busy days passed, with preparations for the King’s journey to the war front. When the morning came for him to leave, nobles, courtiers, guards, and servants gathered in the courtyard in front of the palace, a cloudless sky overhead, cheering and waving handkerchiefs as the King and his mistress Henriette climbed into the royal carriage. Three of Henriette’s ladies, including Sophie, boarded a second coach that was waiting behind the King’s.

The Montespan had not been invited along. She pushed her way through the crowd to stand beside Louise, and stood on tiptoe to see the King and to make sure he saw her. She wanted to make one last connection with him before he left for the war. Look at me, she thought. See me. Here I am. As the driver slapped the reins on the horses’ backs, Louis looked out the window and nodded at the Montespan. Yes!

“Bravo, Madame,” the Montespan said, leaning in to Louise. “The look is yours.”

“Oh, no,” sighed Louise. “I believe you are mistaken.”

“You are upset?”

Louise shook her head sadly. “I cannot reach him.”

“Nonsense. You are his mistress.”

“He’s chosen her. He’s taking her with him. To war.”

“No. He’s delivering her to her husband.”

Louise looked at the Montespan, her eyes filled with hope. “Can you help me? I need to make him like me but I am boring. Perhaps when he returns you can put him in a good mood for me? Talk to him, make him laugh. If he’s in a good humor I might have a chance.”

The Montespan watched as the carriage disappeared down the winding road. She brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. “I suppose I could try.”

They rode in silence for a while, watching barns and cottages and hedgerows passing outside the carriage windows. The fruits of the peasants’ lives, Louis thought. Simple lives, lives with no true understanding of the burdens shouldered by royalty. Are they free, then? Or are they slaves to their menial lots in life? Henriette reached over and touched Louis’ hand. He did not reciprocate and she pulled her hand back.

“Do you miss England?” he asked at last.

“I miss you,” said Henriette.

“Have you heard from your brother recently?”

“You would know if I have.”

Louis adjusted the frill of his collar then stared out at a pasture filled with grazing cattle. “The summer of our lives has been full of blossoms. But autumn is here and nights are drawing in. In the growing darkness we must remind ourselves that life is more than love. And marriage more than duty.”

Henriette turned her feathered hat so that he could not see her face and her need to cry. “My life is yours,” she said softly.