For the strange fate of love itself

"Forever.........yours truly!"

Paris, 1793:

"Once hailed as the crown jewel of the French kingdom by the nobles, Paris now appears as a mere shadow of its former beauty. The once-tall buildings and narrow streets are now covered in piles of rubble, with smoke lingering in the sky from the latest fire that engulfed the city". The young and dashing heir to the throne, however, must abandon any aspirations for his title. The future of the French monarchy looks bleak since the common folk revolted against the crown. The people, starving and plagued by diseases, blamed the royal family, especially his father, King Louis III, who seemed indifferent to the suffering of those who placed him on the throne two decades ago.

Meanwhile, the Palais-Royal remains the sole haven untouched by the people's fury. Situated just outside the city, its perimeter is guarded incessantly by both human guards and vigilant dogs, ensuring 24/7 surveillance. This security makes it virtually impossible for anyone to breach the estate without drawing immediate attention.

"As the prince, one threat to end my family's rule over France is external, but the other threat could be internal-possibly me. Some secrets are deeply buried within me, and the clash between my natural urges and societal expectations could cost me my head. It provides the people with the perfect opportunity to overthrow the royal family, as having a gay king ruling the country is not something they would tolerate," I murmured to myself while seated by the window in my room.

Truth be told, I never chose to be a sodomite. It's just the way I was born. No matter how many ladies I meet at court, none make my heart skip a beat or leave me breathless in their presence. The male counterpart, however, proved to be a troublemaker during my development into a young man. My whole being would crumble if a man was handsome and engaged in anything peculiar, showcasing his physique.

"Charles!" A voice snapped me from my thoughts. I turned to see my mother at the door, wearing a worried expression. I jumped and inquired, "What happened?"

"Just to let you know, we will be leaving in two weeks."

"So soon, Your Grace?".

"I'm mainly concerned about where we go from here. Fleeing our own kingdom might be viewed as an act of cowardice, making us the laughing stock of Europe, and no other royal court may accept us".

"Why should be bother about what they think?.......besides maybe there will be someone to take us in sooner then you think".

"I wish I shared your hope, but let me step away and inform Coach Dennis about our plans."

"I'll go, Mama. You should rest for now." rising with a gentle smile, she reciprocated with a nod of agreement, and I exited my chamber door.

Navigating through hallways filled with servants, guards, and a scattering of nobles, I reached the entrance of the Palais-Royal. Moving towards the royal stables situated on the left side of the castle, my intention was to relish the fresh air. However, instead of the anticipated freshness, all I could inhale was the unsettling mix of death, gunpowder, and the scent of fire emanating from the town, casting a somber expression on my face.

After my father, King Louis III, crafted the royal garden as a gift for my mother, Queen Sophie, where the distant sound of horses neighing brought joy to my ears, I've cherished a lifetime of riding. Some horses lingered outside the stables, having their hooves tended by the farrier, while others were tied to posts for grooming. Two black carriages aligned symmetrically, and as the stable entrance opened, I took a step forward. Suddenly, someone from the right, carrying a hay bale, collided with me, pushing me against my side. Startled, I stumbled as the hay bale slipped from their hands, and they fell forward onto me.