We Will Dance

At the Louvre

Waking up in the arms of the man I love under the glorious lamplight of Paris fills my heart with as much light as the lampposts fill the carriage. I sit up quickly and wake Francis next to me. Together, we fawn over the magnificence of Paris.

Suddenly, a shout from outside catches my attention. Someone has noticed us, recognized the royal carriage and seal. "That's the king and queen!" they shout, as Francis laughs and waves. I look at his smile and smile back. My cheeks go numb as I gesture hello to the people outside.

"I wonder how much they know," I say, my grin faltering slightly as I remember what it really means to be queen, "About us, I mean. I wonder if they know how much we do and suffer in their namesakes."

Francis sits back and pulls me with him. My hands wrapped in his, he soothes, "Does it matter? We would do it for them whether they knew or not, and we will always do it for them." He drapes his arm on my shoulders and lets me lay my head on his. "I meant that. 'Always.' We will live a long time, and we will do for this country what we've promised. We will protect them from England, we will stop this religious war, we will give them and heir, and we will rule together, always. Not just for us, but for them."

I imagine this for a second. Us, our children, and our country, all living happily. All our dreams and promises being fulfilled. I never dare to question whether it is possible, I just picture it and hope that it is. "I believe in it, Francis. I believe in us."

The carriage comes to a stop, causing my heart to flood with joy. My body goes rigid with expectation and excitement. The vigorous joy shows so obviously on Francis' face as he whispers as if he can't quite believe it, "We're here."

My face spreads into an uncontrollable grin and I scream at him, "We're here!"

Our laughter fills the carriage as he fumbles with the door. Finally getting it open, we don't bother to wait for doormen before pushing each other out and stopping breathless in the courtyard. There, before us, is the Louvre Palace, gracefully standing in the center of a busy city, like a statue of pure gold among piles of coal.

Francis rushes to the driver and asks him hurriedly which way was south. The driver points towards the right of the carriage, beyond our current sight. Francis runs back to me, grabs my hand, and pulls me to the opposite side of the carriage. He stops moving suddenly, like a hummingbird running into a brick wall, and gazes in awe at the palace before him. He raises his right hand and points at the south wing of the building. "There," he said softly, "Right there, at the end of the building. That's the part I had demolished after my father died. It was one of my first orders as king. I hired Pierre Lescot to do the job. I wanted him to destroy it and rebuild it just like the west wing."

I watched his eyes gloss over as he admired the building and thought about his father. "Why the west wing?" I asked.

"My grandfather had Lescot design the west wing during his reign, but he died before it was done. My father made certain that Lescot finished the job. After my father's death, I thought it would be a way to commemorate both of them. Once I got sick, I thought I would never get to see it finished, just like my grandfather."

His eyes start to leak salty tears onto his colored face. I remember the days when his face was so pale that I could practically see through him. I grip his hand tight and stroke his arm. "You will. I promise you, you will see this project done."

He turns me to face his front and wipes the tears from his eyes. "Let's not making any more promises until we fulfill those we already have, shall we?"

He bows in front of me and offers his hand. "May I have this dance, madam?"

I laugh. "Francis! There's no music!"

He stands and looks around. "Well," he whispers as he pulls me in for a kiss, "we'll have to call a party then." He leans in the final inches and leaves the taste of himself on my lips. I press myself against him until if feels as though we are no longer two bodies, but one. And I think of his words, "We will rule together, always." We. We will.