Fables of La Source ✓

At the Court

The Court of the Château de Margaille, majestic and imposing, epitomized the zenith of grandeur and refinement of the seventeenth-century monarchy. This mythical place, designed to impress and subjugate, unfolded with perfect symmetry, celebrating the absolutism and opulence of King George XIV.

The courtyard's cobblestones, meticulously maintained, resonated under the steps of courtiers clad in silk and brocade. The air was filled with the murmur of conversations, discreet laughter, and the rustle of sumptuous gowns. At the heart of the courtyard, a monumental fountain sprang forth with grace, its crystalline waters dancing under the sunlight, creating ephemeral rainbows.

The gardens that framed the courtyard were a masterpiece of French landscape art, offering a symphony of greenery and color. The geometric flowerbeds, adorned with exquisite blooms and perfectly trimmed hedges, stretched as far as the eye could see, while shaded pathways invited strolls and contemplation.

White marble statues, depicting mythological figures, lined the paths, adding a touch of poetry and grandeur to the ensemble. The ponds reflected the sky and the château's facades, creating a play of mirrors and lights that enchanted and amazed.

At dusk, the courtyard was illuminated by thousands of candles, transforming the place into a living tableau of fairy-tale splendor, resembling a myriad of glowing stars lighting up the celestial vault. The flickers of light danced upon the gilded decorations and mirrors, while the strains of music rose, sweeping the guests into a whirl of splendor and delight.

Such was the surface and initial visage of the Court of Margaille. However, beneath this first veil lay a more debauched and opulent version of this château of a thousand splendors. Behind the luxurious and glorious facade of the Court, were concealed the depraved needs of the nobility, the ascent to power, the poison of corruption, betrayals behind amiable smiles, and buried resentments. Here, power games played out, the dominance of a group or an individual, pious or impious, in the name of the gods, virtue, or any moral or spiritual quality, with the rest being of little importance; only power mattered.

The young Count Célestin de La Source found himself in great embarrassment, positioned like a pawn on a deadly chessboard amid this power struggle from all sides. For all inexperienced nobles stepping into this Court, they became prey to the implicit mockery of powerful predators. Nevertheless, the higher the noble, the more painful was the fall. As for Célestin, initially present solely for a bridge construction permit from His Majesty, he had unwittingly been drawn into the various power conflicts through his entanglement with the Archduke of Foreloin, the king's closest advisor and confidant. His status as a minor and insignificant count had thus sadly been elevated to that of an influential noble. Rumors and gossip attempted, despite all, to downgrade him, but this only reinforced the support he received from the Archduke. Thus, nobles with cruel and venomous tongues preferred to focus on a far more intriguing aspect: his tacit inclination towards the same sex. Although the young count had never expressed a preference for one gender over the other, words continued to flow in a continuous stream of hatred and disdain against him, cloaked in sweet and hypocritical phrases. This hostile environment explained Célestin's deep aversion to the Court, attending it only to recite his fables cherished by the king.

The young count took a deep breath before alighting from the carriage and stepping onto the gravel. He swept his gaze across the gardens, momentarily mesmerized by the beauty of nature, before redirecting it to the menacing gates towering towards the sky, their spiked tips giving the impression of wanting to pierce him at the slightest misstep. A shiver of horror ran down his spine as he finally advanced towards this ill-favored Court. He lightly brushed one of the sleeves of his suit, unwilling to soil himself before his audience with His Majesty, needing to be impeccable. He then walked straight ahead, concentrating solely on the path, ignoring the condescending glances cast upon him by other nobles.