The Moon and the Sun

“She’s borrowed my jewels often enough,” Monsieur said. “And as often as not never returned them.”

“The hair ornaments are Chinese. You must not adulterate your costume.” His Majesty considered. “Japanese warriors are said to wear helmets. You shall have a helmet, of plumes and golden scales.”

“Thank you, sir,” Monsieur said, somewhat mollified.

Smiling, His Majesty turned to Lucien. “M. de Chrétien! Is your costume finished?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“I trust you did not skimp. It must be magnificent—though not more magnificent than mine.”

“I hope it will please you, Sire.”

“It is finished very quickly.”

“It took less time to create, Sire—being smaller.”

His Majesty laughed, then nodded at the roll of papers in Lucien’s hand. “What do you have for me?”

Lucien presented Mlle de la Croix’s drawings to the King. Louis’ likeness would grace the medal’s face. In the old fashion, but appropriate for Carrousel, he appeared as a mounted youth in Roman armor, gazing into the farthest distance. A sea monster cavorted on the reverse drawing. Its grotesque face expressed joy; its tails whipped spume from the waves.

“I had expected the hunt—the captured creature,” His Majesty said. “But this is quite extraordinary. Chrétien, have it struck. Deliver one, with my compliments, to—”

Under the eye of governors and nursemaid, Bourgogne, Anjou, and Berri marched in, wearing versions of His Majesty’s costume. The little boys lined up before the King and saluted, fists to their chests.

“My Roman legions!” His Majesty exclaimed. “I am most pleased.”

Berri brandished his Roman sword.

“Our fencing lesson, M. de Chrétien, if you please!”

Lucien bowed. “Certainly, Your Highness.”

“You may have M. de Chrétien later,” His Majesty said. “Now he is advising me.” He dismissed his heirs. “What was I saying?”

“Your Majesty wished me to reserve a medal—for Mlle de la Croix, perhaps?”

“For my sister-in-law, for her collection. You suggest that Mlle de la Croix should have one as well?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. For her, and her brother, too, of course.”

“Have they a medal collection?”

“I doubt it sincerely, Your Majesty. The family is penniless.”

“That will change.”

“In that case,” Lucien said, understanding His Majesty’s intentions, “a medal from Your Majesty, commemorating the brother’s capture of the monster and the sister’s depiction of it—a mark of Your Majesty’s favor—will begin the repair of their fortunes.”

Louis looked again at his own likeness.

“Unlike Bernini, Mlle de la Croix understands how a rider sits a horse. Does she wish to join the hunt?”

“She is pleased to accept, Your Majesty.”

“And does she flatter you, as she flatters me?”

“Why, Your Majesty—she flatters neither of us.”

“Chrétien, you fancy her, I do believe!” He laughed. “But what of Mme de la Fère?”

“Mme de la Fère tired of widowhood. She has accepted an offer of marriage.”

“Without your counter-offer?”

“I don’t intend to marry, as Mme de la Fère understands.”

“You tell your lovers, but I wonder how many of them hope to change your mind?”

“They cannot, Sire, but I hope that’s the only way in which I might disappoint them. I honor Mme de la Fère. We part as friends.”

“And Mlle de la Croix?” His Majesty said, ignoring Lucien’s diversion.

“She is devoted to your service, Your Majesty, and to advancing her brother’s work. She wishes for scientific instruments.”

“Scientific instruments? I suppose she must occupy her time somehow, until she’s married—she needs a husband. She’s a devout young woman. She prays in church, instead of sleeping or ogling fashions. She is well-regarded by Mme de Maintenon as well as by Madame my brother’s wife.”

“Then she is remarkable, Sire.”

“Who shall she marry, Chrétien? I must pick someone worthy of my love for her father and mother. Some might object to her lack of connections, but I will make up for them. Perhaps I should desire you to change your mind.”

“I hope you will not, Sire.” Lucien spoke lightly, despite his alarm.

His Majesty sighed. “My court is sadly lacking in other suitable candidates. She would prefer someone with passion, I feel sure, and who else fits that description? It was different in my youth.”

His Majesty might prefer someone with passion, but what Mlle de la Croix desired in a husband, if indeed she desired a husband at all, Lucien did not know. How much of her character had the convent formed? How much of her natural desire had been frightened out of her?

Lucien kept his own counsel.

* * *

Fountains played and whispered on every pool; flowers in all shades of gold and yellow burst from silver pots along the edges of the pathways. The gardens were filled with visitors. People had already gathered at the sea monster’s open tent; they stood around the cage, pointing and laughing.