Tulips

Chapter 13

The first time Louis had went hunting he was ten years old. Early on a Friday morning, he was dragged into the frost and sat upon a horse. Their prey for the day was pheasant, a short way through the hunt his dad had called him to his side and told him to point his weapon at a bird ahead of them in the forest. Hands trembling, he aimed, following his father's instructions. Bang. Thump. He was quickly surrounded with praise as the dog brought the bird to his feet, its long tail lifeless. He picked it up. Death in his hand. Louis had been a soft child, the abyss left by his mother hung over him wherever he went. The women of the court coddled his melancholy, the men laughed at it, mockery from everyone except his father. Louis smoothed the red feathers of the bird's chest, dampness forming in his eyes. He felt the weight of his father's hand on his shoulder.

"You're alright Louis," he patted. "You did a good job."

"Does it hurt the bird?" he said, focussed on the body in his hands.

"No, if you shoot well it doesn't feel a thing."

"What do I do with it,"

"We'll cook it. Have it for dinner."

And they did, it tasted sweet. Louis took to hunting very well in the prevailing years.

He walked into his apartments. Adelaide sat in a chair reading, when he entered, she didn't look up. She was wearing a green dress that matched her eyes, hair towered on her head. She wriggled in her seat unable to find a comfortable position. The morning sickness had subsided a few weeks ago and replaced with back aches.

"Gwen and Joseph are getting married." he unfolded the letter from his pocket and handed it to her.

"Finally," she puffed. "October, we'll have to leave soon then."

"You're not coming." He closed his eyes preparing for the oncoming protestation.

"Yeah right,"  her eyes racing down the page.

"Adelaide please don't this harder than it needs to be," he begged.

"I'm not missing my best friend's wedding," she stood up from her seat.

"Look it wasn't my decision,"

"You're the king Louis! Just tell them I'm coming with you." Adelaide crossed her arms

"I am not going to drag my pregnant wife across the continent for a wedding."

"Fine, stay here with me, if I'm not allowed to go you shouldn't either," she rolled the words of quickly, like round of bullets flying from a rifle.

He muddled for a moment. "I need to go," he paused. "diplomatically it makes sense."

She scoffed, thinking through what he had said. "Please let me go Louis," she begged, her voice was now soft, pleading. A pain struck his chest, he knew how much she craved seeing her friends.

"There's nothing I can do."

She dropped her head in defeat, looking at the carpeted floor. "How long will you be gone?"

"Lenoir wants me to visit some of the South on the way back, I'll be back in twelve weeks."

She looked up at him, holding back sobs. "Don't go," her voice quivered. "Please don't go."

"I'm sorry."

He felt guilty for her, but his hands were tied. He left a couple of days later; Adelaide did not wave him off.