Versailles: The King's brother

Chapter 12: A Grim Arrival

Renee

As time had shown the Beaumont family, little of it was wasted when their carriage had arrived promptly at midnight to encourage their departure. Luckily, though, with as small a family as they were, packing was easy and for the most part uncomplicated. Renee's mother chose the dresses Renee would bring to Versailles and the tunics and overcoats Victoire would wear as well. "This is the King's court," she announced proudly,  "and the Beaumont's will do well to live up to the expectation of being new members."
It was half past two when the family departed to the Kingsroad. The night was clear and cool, the white light of the full moon illuminating the forest around them; a much needed relief to Renee's already growing weary anticipation. "Merde", their mother swore. "By the time we arrive it will be dawn. We would have missed the party!"
Victor yawned in response, turning his shoulder to her as he leaned his head out the open window to sleep. "Of course this pleases you", their mother mumbled.
"Perhaps we should have an apology ready when we arrive?", Renee suggested. "Yes", her mother agreed," but leave the talking - and most certainly the apologies -  to me, child."
"Yes, mother", was all Renee replied before leaning her head out the open window as well, inhaling the fresh air. She could smell the wet, mossy earth beneath the carriage, listened satisfyingly at the squelch of the mud being rolled underneath the wooden carriage wheels, and before she knew it, Renee was pulled into a dreamless sleep.

***

Philippe

The day rose grey and cloudy as Philippe woke up, though the weather was merely a reflection of how he really felt once he was told he was to adjourn his brother in welcoming the new arrival of nobles to Versailles.
"Come now, brother", Louis said as flung open the curtains, letting the gray, muddy light fill the room, " I would allow the Chevalier to join you, if you wish?"
"Oh how dearly kind of you, my King", Philippe replied, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes. Unbeknownst to Louis, he knew nothing of the complications the Chevalier and him were having, in fact, Philippe was unsure if Louis even knew of their relationship at all. Perhaps he does and simply turns a blind eye, he thought, or maybe, incapable of understanding the intricacies of a male to male relationship - regardless of the magnitude - Louis viewed the Chevalier simply as his younger siblings best friend, confidante, or whatever would have His Majesty.
"I'll let you do the planning on that area", Louis announced, " but be ready within the hour. I wish to give the families a tour of the palace while the dew still sits on the grass!"
"Christ", Philippe whispered once Louis left, "and  yet I would be considered the sinner of flamboyancy."
*
Renee
Dawn was barely breaking through the tops of the tree line when Renee awoke. The air was crisp and fresh, her overcoat slick with droplets of dew. Victoire was beginning to stir from his slumber as well, the carriage growing more turbulent as the terrain became more rocky. Across from Renee, her mother was stirring with nerves, frequently fixing the pleats in her dress and tugging at her dangling earrings. "We aren't the only ones, it seems", Victoire yawned, glancing out the window. Past the warm steam emanating from Victoires yawn, Renee caught a glimpse of a trail of carriages sitting in waiting at the entrance gates. "Other nobles?", she said aloud to no one in particular.
"Dozens", her mother gasped, flinging her body to the other end of her bench to get a better view. As the Beaumonts carriage came to a stop behind the stream of nobles ahead of them, guards began galloping on their horses to them. Victoire laughed, "Well it seems we weren't the only ones to miss the party", two guardsmen came up to the windows of their carriage, kind smiles on their faces considering the dark circles under their eyes.
"Good morning, madame. A fine morning for you to arrive", the first guard said. Renees mother bowed her head in greeting, "As you say, gentlemen. My heart is saddened to admit we missed the festivities of the night before", she put her hand to her bosom to enhance the theatrics. The second guard glanced away in a deep blush. Victoire grazed the hilt of his long sword with his thumb slowly as the guards continued to speak to their mother. "Gates should be opening soon, madame. If you would be so kind as to let me review your papers of lineage, I would happily escort you and your family into the palace myself", the first guard caught sight of Renee and sent her a quick smirk.
"I'm sure we can mange on our own, sir", Victoire growled, "My deepest thanks for your concern over my mother and sister".
The first guard brought his horse back away from the window slightly at her brothers comment, she amusedly nudged his arm with her elbow. There was a small silence in the air as both guards passed their mothers papers to one another, until finally they stirred their horses in unison, "Beaumonts! Ah, my apologies for keeping you waiting this long. The King is in high anticipation of your arrival, you shall be let into the palace first before the rest", the first guard galloped off after a curt bow, shouting orders up ahead to open the gates.
"I shall have your carriage driver follow me, madame and monsieur. Do hold yourselves steady, the rains last night made the ground terribly soft", with that the second guard strode ahead and spoke to their carriage driver. Their carriage now moving, Renees stomach felt like it was doing hurdles within her body as they passed the tired, angry faces of the other noble families before them; one man even stomped out of his cart to shout at them. "You're letting them go first!", the man with an awful balding patch on his head roared at a steadfast guard who was eyeing him curiously. "Do you know who my family is, boy?!"
The Beaumonts rode on in silence.
*
Etienne and the other handful of servants they brought with them were quickly torn away from Renee and her small family once their carriage stopped. Leaving behind the others to gather their luggage and prep their rooms, the Beaumonts were rushed to join the group of nobles huddled near the entrance. "From what I gather, this is a special morning for new arrivals", their mother spoke as she guided them off to the sides of the crowd to have some privacy, "The King is to greet us all, personally, and take us on a tour of the palace grounds. Now, regarding us.."
A fanfare began playing and the crowd of nobles instantly split in half to make way for what was to appear. Their mother sighed, "No time. Keep your heads down, speak only when spoken to", the siblings nodded and gathered with the others.
Seeking comfort to her livid nerves, Renee entwined her fingers into Victoires gloved hand. Noticing this, Victoire offered a small grin to his little sister, "Just stick by me and they won't even notice you're here", he teased. His frame was tall and toned, shielding her frame perfectly. He was right, though, so long as she stayed close to him she could remain hidden from plain sight.
From far ahead to her right, someone was speaking, though she couldn't make out the words except for a guttural shout of, "The King!"
Suddenly, the crowd bowed deeply. She followed suit. Another voice chimed in, more faint and less decipherable. She pretended to look engaged. After a moment, the crowd began filing in behind the approaching figure, who was shielded from her by Victoire, and the collection of nobles began walking into the morning light.
Trailing along a gravel path, the roar of dozens of footsteps didn't allow her to listen much to the Kings words as he pointed out statues and sights along the palace grounds, though she was close enough to be able to view him comfortably. He looked radiant this morning, she thought. Clad in a crimson overcoat, red silk collar, and gold embroidered cloak and sun hat, she hardly noticed that her brother - still holding her hand - had struck up conversation with a strange gentlemen to his opposite side. Unable to get a clearer view, she strode ahead on her own in an effort to get closer to the King. She didn't want to be seen by him, necessarily, it was a strange desire to simply hear his voice.
Finally, she heard it. "They all arrived this morning?", he asked the man walking to his right in an all blue dress coat, "Before dawn, sire", the man answered curtly.
"This is bigger than I imagined", she heard her brothers voice announce. Slowing down her walking speed to return to him, she caught sight of the man walking by his side, his face was undeniable, she knew it anywhere. It was Philippe, the Duc D'Orlean. Her fathers greatest pride following his actual children. She saw that face everyday back home, it was impeccable how well the artist captured his image. His face hung on the wall in her fathers study, always dusted and kept straight. He looked exactly the same, the exact grim, thin lipped smirk he always seems to wear. Philippe, the Kings brother.
"The King seems content", Victoire continued, gaping at the sights around him. Philippe only glanced at her brother briefly, acknowledging his comment with little interest before his eyes caught hers and he additionally disregarded her all the same. "Yes, my brother loves the tour", Philippe voiced, boredom slick in his voice.
Renees mouth seemed to sour at Philippe's visible disinterest in all that was happening. She didn't blame him for it, he probably has done this hundred of times already. Still, she wished he had paid more intrigue into her and her brother. After all, they were raised knowing all there was to know about him. He could practically be her own brother, all things considered. Her thoughts were interrupted by the King's next words, " Later on, I shall take you on a personal viewing of the gardens", the crowd gasped in cordial pleasure, "But first, the east wing, extended beyond the original lot. It is here that you and your families will be accommodated. It is my wish, above all that you see Versailles not as the royal palace, but as your home.."
Scoffing at the idea, Renee imagined how any amount of lavish living and fine dining could ever replace what is her real home, now lying dormant less than a hundred miles from where she now walks. Home is a unique gathering point for specific members, it is a place already tainted with years upon years of memories, good and bad. Thinking of home, her thoughts went to her father as the King continued on, "..A place of leisure and conversation. A place of joy and ligh-", he was cut off shortly after by a shout from up ahead.
"Our shared glory, Sire!", there, on the ramparts of an unfinished portion of the east wing, stood a disheveled middle aged man, covered in grime and soot. All attention went to the man, upon closer viewing Renee was shocked to see he had a noose around his neck. The crowd stopping to observe the scene, Victoire came from behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder protectively. "What victories have I seen! I fought for you at Douai. I lost my eye for you at Besançon!"
The King stepped forward, resting his weight on the ornamented walking stick by his side, likely worth more than any amount of belongings the man might ever have. Renee almost felt repulsed by the Kings insulting display of wealth, whether the King knew it or not. "For which you will be compensated", the King replied back, annoyance in his voice.
"And how much for my brother, Sire? Crushed by a stone as he built your walls", the mans voice seemed to falter towards the end of his sentence. Philippe then entered the scene, joining his brothers side as the two observed the man above. "What do you want?" Louis fondled with the hilt of his walking stick impatiently.
"You said that France would honor its heroes! The was your promise", the man pointed his index finger angrily at the King. From behind Renee, she heard a few of the nobles whisper their astonishment to one another. "Lies! We live and die like cattle, work as your slaves. You say you are France..but if you truly were, you'd know our suffering. You'd feel it in your bones and you'd take the pain away", the man choked on his words. Louis only watched him, eyes glazed over in visible ignorance.
My father wouldn't stand for this, Renne thought to herself, this man deserves the world, he deserves what he asks for. In fact, he never should have had to ask.
"Others feel our pain, Sire. And they are more than worth our loyalty".
A few other workers appeared from behind the man, urging him to come back, "Come on, solider. Don't be a fool", they warned. "The King makes fools of us all!", the man retorted.
Joining Philippe and Louis, the man in the blue dress coat came forward and shouted, " You will come down here at once!", to which the man with the noose around his neck replied, "You wish me to descend, Sire?", a snide smile playing across his lips. Renees stomach sunk, Philippe angrily whispered something inaudible to Louis, "Very well...as your brother commands!"
Rushing forward, Philippe ordered the man to stop. It was too late. As the shouts of horror filled the morning air, as husbands frantically shielded their wives and daughters from the sight, as Louis stood gravely still at the descending man, watching; no one could deny that the sound of that mans neck breaking, the sound of the screams following, the sound of the sighs the workers up above wielded, and most importantly the sound of Philippe drawing his sword to cut the man down from the rope were unconditionally the sounds of an unspoken revolution waiting to happen.
Renee was grateful Victoire didn't shield her like all the other men around her, he kept his palms on her shoulder, his body heat warming her back against the cool morning air. The Beaumont siblings looked on at the sight, acknowledging what it all symbolized. As if thinking the same thing, they looked at one another and solemnly exchanged the same feelings.
Escorting himself from the scene, the King began to hurriedly march away, the flock of nobles parting themselves in two - barely remembering at the last moment to bow - and it was then after all had happened the King, Louis XIV of France, had finally caught sight of Renee Beaumont.

[Written 6.03.2019]

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