Rearrange Me

IX

Third POV

Eleanora sat at her writing desk, inking all of her thoughts, dreams, and even some memories onto the tan parchment.

The Queen Consort was so lost in her writing that she did not notice King Philippe XV enter the room.

"Why are you woke at such an ungodly hour?" Philippe asked, causing Eleanora to jump in her seat and throw her pen at the window in front of her.

The pen landed onto the floor with a thud, not even putting a chip in the waved glass.

"What are you doing sneaking into a Lady's room and scaring her half-to-death?" Eleanora asked after leaning down to pick up her pen.

"I did not mean to frighten you. I knocked." Philippe points out, leaning his shoulder against the window, nearly a foot away from Eleanora.

"You must learn to knock with greater volume." Eleanora said, turning her body to look at her husband.

"It is late, I did not want to wake you."

Eleanora was now confused, "Then why did you come knocking at my door? If not to wish to wake me?"

"I was sleepless. I saw light coming from under your door. If you were to be awake, I was going to ask why? If you had fallen asleep, I were to turn out your lighting."

Eleanora was quite shocked, for she and Philippe had only had a turning point the night before last, "That is very kind of you. I am afraid I, too, am sleepless."

"I had been thinking of going for a stroll in the Gardens. Do you wish to join?" Philippe hesitantly offered.

Eleanora thought for a moment, before finally saying, "I suppose that may tire me. I do not see such a problem with joining."

So, they walked. Out of the Palace and towards the Great Lawn- a part of the Gardens that Eleanora had not yet which explored. But, to get to the Great Lawn, they had to pass the Latona Fountain. Now that would pose a problem.

"Philippe, might I ask you a question?"

"Always." Philippe responded, his body was tense as they approached the dreadful fountain.

"About your mother. About what you said yesterday." Eleanora's thoughts about this subject had been eating away at her.

"That I killed her?" Philippe knew the conversing of this matter would come one day. Better to get over with now, he thought.

"Yes, My Lord."

Philippe comes to a halt directly in front of the fountain he hated most in these Gardens of his. A fountain he used to find quite miraculous as a young boy.

"I hate this fountain." He states bitterly.

"Why have hatred for such a beautiful thing?" Eleanora asked curiously. For she did not understand.

"Such a beautiful thing, yes. Yet it holds such terrible memories.", Philippe stood there, listening to the sound of the water, "This is where my mother died."

Philippe XV

As I stood in front of the thing I hated the most, with my wife on my arm. I finally shared my most terrible memory. A memory that is quite entirely my fault.

"Mama, look at the water, 'tis an odd color today."

"It has not yet been cleaned today. "Tis an odd color, isn't it?", Mama asked with a smile. A smile I was quite fond of, "Did you know it is good luck to dance in front of a fountain?"