Cassel patted his knee. “Come here, child. How old are you?”

Sophie leaned back in an attempt to hide behind the Montespan.

“I love it when they play hard to get,” said Cassel.

“Now, now,” said the Montespan. “The sweetmeats come at the end of the meal, sir, not during. And I assure you, the King is planning a most extraordinary banquet.”

Sophie stifled a cry, and felt she would lose everything she had just eaten.

Midnight approached. Louis and two guards entered Henriette’s bedchamber where the lady and her husband lay sleeping. Henriette was startled awake at the creak of a floorboard, but Philippe continued to snore loudly and drunkenly, his face against a pillow. Henriette slid her feet off the bed to receive the King but he waved his hand, indicating she needn’t get up.

Louis stood at the bed and nodded at Philippe. “I’m told he drank nine bumpers of the Turin Rosa Solis after supper.”

“Yes,” said Henriette. “And three more after arriving here. Then he fell asleep.”

There was affection in Louis’ eyes as he leaned closer, over his brother. “When he sleeps, he could be a child again.”

“We all could,” said Henriette.

Suddenly Philippe’s eyes flashed open. He roared and grabbed Louis by the throat and then he screamed as if in the midst of battle. Louis gasped in the chokehold as the guards hastened forward. Then Philippe saw whose throat he was clutching and let go. Louis jumped back, coughing and massaging his neck.

“Oh. It’s you,” said Philippe, his voice thick with drink and fatigue. “My brother. The magician.”

Louis frowned. “Magician?”

Philippe pointed at Henriette. “Her brother in England allied with two others against you. The prospect of a winter campaign and the supply lines of grain running thin. Only you could sign a ceasefire and call it a victory.”

Louis shook his head sadly. “My brother, we’ll talk in the morning.”

“Better now,” said Philippe. “I do not think I’ll be awake tomorrow.”

“You have not officially replied to our invitation. I’m assuming you intend to come.”

Philippe pulled himself up to sit on the bed’s edge. He lifted a glass half-filled with wine from the bed-stand. “Oh, yes, sir. I do as commanded by my superiors.”

“Drink your fill tonight,” said Louis. “I wish no repeat of this at our entertainment.”

“I will entertain myself, then. As you always said, brother, there is no greater glory than dying for one’s King and country. But I have to disagree based on personal experience. I have to say the greatest glory lies in living.” He held the wine glass up as if toasting the King, then downed it in a gulp.