Born into the lap of luxury and a time of turmoil, Duchesse Eleonore Vigneron experiences her coming of age in the Court of Louis XVI . Embroiled in the chaos that surrounds Versailles, Eleni uses her unique blend of wit, charm, and beauty to ensure...
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Author's Note: A "pas de deux" is a type of dance in ballet meant to showcase both the male and female dancer equally. The audience's focus moves from one to the other, before eventually, it seems the two become one. It is not an accident that the next two chapters mimic that form."Et Trois" means "and three", a humorous reference to a third character it's impossible to ignore.
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25 novembre 1794 Versailles, France
Dearest Journal-Friend,
I have heard that one may not die of a broken heart, but I do occasionally wonder if this is possible. A good amount of time has passed, and I am living in the villages not far from Versailles. Just as I was for most of the past year, I am still being held in disguise as a humble peasant woman and allowed to see as few as possible. My face is not typical, and I know that well. The only people who resemble me are related to me, and that puts them in danger. I never thought my face would be one that draws suspicion without meaning.
I have done my part and been a cooperative and helpful guest, though I am dreadfully lonely. Yvonne can visit me from time to time, though I do not encourage this, and neither does my brother. She endangers her life by making the trip, though he insists he is concerned such visits threaten mine. I know this to be not so.
On many occasions, Michel has taken Yvonne as if she were his lover, though there is no love involved. It is a duty she performs for the good of the household as if it were as meaningless as cleaning floors. This behaviour shocks and angers me still when I think of it. Yvonne said upon the last occasion, "My child, you will learn that for a woman, such duties are no more important nor distasteful than cleaning floors. It is easy to feel nothing for what passes between a man and a woman. It is mostly nothing."
I do not believe this. I think that what happens between men and women can be beautiful and the thing that is a kind of consolation within such a dreadful world. I see it in the way the village peasants behave with one another. Why is it those who have the least can feel love the most and have no shame in expressing it?
Those who have lived like my family, the type of love that goes on between men and women can be used as a weapon to destroy. They are careful to keep me isolated, and in good spirits, with needlework and reading and all the ink, I should want to write to my dear Journal-Friend. The news of the world, though, and politics, these are things never discussed if I enter the room and I do not understand.
