Renee's POV
Unable to sleep, Renee withdrew from the comforts of her bed curious and giddy. With Victoire having departed back to his room through the window, and her mother softly snoring from across the parlor, Renee felt now was the perfect time to read the letter. She felt the beginnings of soreness in her muscles as she sat herself at the oak wood desk, striking a match and lighting a candle. The flame was hungry and consumed the wick ravishingly, basking Renee's room in an ominous orange glow. Just to be safe, Renee had opted to close the door to her bedroom.
This letter, as she assumed, was not supposed to be found by her. With no address or familiar seal, she also surmised this letter was not supposed to be found by anyone of particular interest. And yet here she was, and there that red embellished seal stared back up at her. The wax was still flexible as she opened the letter, the only marking on the seal being a cursive "h" that Renee could not put a name to.
Perhaps this was a love letter made to be found by one of the loves of an adulterous couple. Or perhaps this letter bore news of the ongoing war and was meant to be found by a patrolling guard. Unfolding the paper in her lap, Renee was not greeted by any of this. In fact, it was not even in an alphabet she was familiar with. In minor resemblance of Greek numbering, dozens of etched symbols littered the page, concentrating around the four corners of the paper. The ink smudged slightly under her touch, and when she sniffed the paper she could easily smell the sealing powder that was used to keep the ink dry. This letter was freshly made, and, moreover, freshly placed within the leaves of that orange tree.
A guilty, fearful feeling arose from within her abdomen that caused Renee to jump up from her desk, repulsing away from the ivory paper sitting on the dark facet of oak. Her chair fell back in a cacophonous clatter, and her hands trembled as she replaced it. She wasn't supposed to find this letter, by now she knew that for certain. Startling her further, two quick knocks came from the thin door adjacent to her bed. Concealed by the wallpaper, Renee hardly remembered that door was there. It was the door used by chambermaids and servants, mainly, though Renee had already heard the rumors claiming that the King oftentimes used these secret passageways to sneak into the rooms of his many lovers.
Feeling assured that it wasn't the King, she approached the panel door and clicked it open, revealing Étienne. His brown eyes glimmered like pools of slick honey under the candle light, it made him look handsome and dreamy. Taking Renee's lack of response towards seeing him, he pushed himself hurriedly in and began explaining himself:
"It's late, I know. But I was just wanting to check in on you, after all, we were quite quickly separated upon our arrival. Your mother kept me quite busy, you know. This outfit, ugh, it's a nightmare", he tore off the royal blue tunic from his bodice and threw himself onto Renee's bed, moaning at its comfort, "Christ in heaven, this is far better than straw and wool. Anyhow, I discovered the layout of these passageways. That's partly why I came, tonight, right now, so that I could tell you so. Renee, they lead everywhere. It's incredible, you must let me walk you through them one day when you're not so busy. The mischief we could cause!" He looked at her now, and noticed she was still standing by the panel door, her face clouded in worry.
Étienne grew scared immediately, and stood up to go by her side. "What happened? Are you hurt? You're in your sparring outfit..", he carefully brushed her cheek with his index finger. While he supported her and her ambitions to learn to fight, the thought of Renee getting hurt in any way always seemed to be among his worst fears. Victoire would never fight that roughly with her, he knew, but he also knew that the reason she trained was so that she would be prepared to defend herself should the day come where it was not just simple sparring on cool nights with her older brother. He would never tell her these things, in fear of lowering of confidence, but the thoughts weighed on his mind constantly.
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Versailles: The King's brother
Historical FictionA historical work of fiction by TheTrueBeguiled based on the BBC hit show 'Versailles'. Feedback is appreciated via comments on chapters and posts on TheTrueBeguiled message board - the author hopes you enjoy their latest work in progress and that y...