18 | Mystified

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January 1, 1778

"What are you doing here?" I whisper, furrowing my brows in curiosity. This man in front of me only stares at me with those eyes of his that nearly pierce into my soul. I fidget slightly, tearing my gaze away from his.

I back away a step, the high heels of my olivine-colored slippers clicking on the cold stone floor. I glance at him under my lashes and see that he is still staring at me with narrowed, intense eyes. He stands tall in front of me, clad in expensive all-black clothing distinguishing his snowy white neckcloth with a single red ruby winking at the center of the cloth. "Are you...all right?" I ask in a shaky voice, intimidated by his soulful and heated gaze.

"I'm here to enjoy the air and the fireworks coming up," he replies in a deep American accent. I notice he does not even care replying to my last question.

I straighten my back and clear my throat. "All the people are outside the queen's garden to enjoy the full view of the fireworks," I reason. "Do you not want to see it up close?"

"I'm fine where I am now."

"But I believe that it's more magnificent up close in the queen's garden, not here."

He quirks an arrogant brow. "Then why are you here?"

How dare he question me of such a thing! Is he forgetting that I am his princess, that I am royalty? But...he does have a point. What am I doing here? "I came here to look at the moon."

There is a ghost of a smile. "I heard."

"I have to go," I say, picking up my skirts slightly, turning away. "The queen will be searching for me."

"No, she won't."

"What do you mean, she won't be searching for me?" I ask, confused.

He shrugs casually like nothing's the matter. Which really is nothing, but to me, it sort of is. "She's the queen. She enjoys merriment. She has circles of friends whom she can be with. She'll be too busy to even realize you're not there and start looking for you. I bet," he goes on, a tiny smirk on his face, "that Count Axel Fersen is even keeping her company quite well."

This, I do not even think falsely. It is not a secret any longer that Marie has a lover named Axel Fersen whom she met at a soiree. Such a scandal, yet the queen does not care. She lives to be known, and to be known, she must make some scandals that can catch people's attentions. Once, Marie was so drunk, she spilled everything to me when I helped her enter her room. She feels lonely, she said, that the only thing that could fill up that gap is through the parties and merriment she experiences. She even said that Axel has been a great friend to her. A man who truly loves her more than her husband, Louis, the king, who is so quiet and awkward.

Truth is, Marie loves Louis, but she just can't really try to change him and fix everything between them. She tries to be a dutiful wife and a good queen, though she thinks that no one even notices her efforts; and so she fills up her time with creating fashion trends, lovemaking with her dashing lover, and doing drugs and drinking alcohol and partying with her circle of friends. I am her friend, but I try to keep away from bad crowds. I become civil with them, nothing more. Marie likes me because she knows I can understand her the way no one really can. I try my hardest to make her feel better and let her see what a great woman she is.

But I have seen a Sight.

She will be beheaded in the guillotine soon.

I want to change that. I have no idea how.

"Maybe she is." I narrow my eyes at him, slightly vexed because of how his expression looks; like he is amused, laughing about Marie Antoinette's misbehaviors. What he doesn't know is that she is depressed, that she is very melancholic about her life with her husband and with the pressures of society. I turn on my heel and walk away with a ramrod straight back, my chin up high full of loftiness. I do not look back to see what his expression is.

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