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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"You don't need princes to save you. I don't have a lot of patience for stories in which women are rescued by men." --- Neil Gaiman,The Sleeper And The Spindle
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13 novembre 1803 Roma, Italie
Dearest Journal-Friend,
I often write my secrets in these envelopes, slid in between the pages of my journal. They all look the same, crimson red parchment thicker than average, folded into an envelope and sealed with a wax seal. It is a black rose, something that has come to be my personal insignia.
In these envelopes, I write things I wish to tuck away. It is not for my safety. I know that if anyone ever found and read my journal, I should be imprisoned and killed. During my short life, I have committed crimes and had crimes committed against me. I have killed, and I have died.
I am but a small girl who was meant to live in a beautiful palace with an old but agreeable husband and play cards and have dresses made to show off my figure most scandalously. The worst I ever imagined doing to anyone was disappointing my father, earning the disfavour of the King, or perhaps taking a lover out of fun and curiosity.
Only a decade since my people began to be murdered, and those responsible then were murdered by others, and a vicious cycle began that led us to a short little man who not only wants France and Italy and the Holy Church itself. He wishes to take the aristocracy of Europe, our lands, our memories, our traditions, and make it as if we are a relic of something outdated. He wishes to erase my childhood, my Maman and Papa, just as he wishes to do to Madame Royale and le Comte d'Artois and those who survive. We are not many, but we are strong and proud.
Not so many of us survive still. Those who do, we are in exile throughout the continent, finding refuge in the strangest of places.
Only a decade has passed since la Reine, the woman I admired only second to my own Maman, was taken from this world. I have lost everything and yet I live in comfort and peace and my greatest fear is a trivial one. I fear my husband's affair with Madame de Roussel will leave me unloved, cast aside, and neglected.
