An escape from Versailles

[PrinceCaspian]

Girard Molyneux had been in the service to the Royal family as a servant in the guest houses for the last two years. He had been assigned to various dignitaries and the friends and family of King Louis the XVI and to the stunning Marie Antoinette. He was well regarded among the servants of Versailles and was blessed to have been personally commended by both Louis the XV and Louis XVI during his tenure with the royal family. Girard learned quickly when to be seen and when to be unseen, keeping him out of trouble with the Royal family and the hedonistic lifestyle that many of the royals took as their good given right. This had made Girard very popular among both the male and female guests of the guest houses. He would never divulge who was having an affair - and with whom. His role was to serve those who he was told to serve and to do so with loyalty.

Girard was of average height, 5'10 and medium build. He was not tall or big enough to be intimidating. His mannerisms were refined and specific, without being rigid. Girard was fluid in his movements. If you did not see him move, you would almost swear he had not done so at all. His hazel eyes and brown hair were average as well. He was extremely well kept and took pride in his appearance, as he was answerable only to the head of the servants department in the main palace of Versailles and to his guests.

Girard's was held him in high regard among the ladies who also served at the royal courts. When he was not serving he was free to move about Versailles and would fraternize with the other servants of the palace. He was friendly and kind - something not all servants were lucky enough to receive from their benefactors. Those who had it worst were those who served in the palace itself. There were many who could not handle the pressure of dealing with Royalty and the expectations of the King and Queen of France. Girard was free with his good humour and kind spirit, and loved nothing more than making the young ladies in attendance laugh.

One of these ladies that he had a particular fondness was one of Marie Antoinette's personal ladies-in-waiting; Margeaux. The two would be indistinguishable were it not for their clothing. Once, as a joke, Marie and Margeaux even switched places and walked about the castle. Margeaux said nothing at the time and only nodded to passers-by, but the guards thought nothing of it. Margeaux giggled about it afterwards:

"Oh, Girard, you should have seen the guards. The would never know, unless I had spoken. Then, maybe the jest would have been caught. I suppose I could have gotten into trouble, perhaps even put in prison for impersonating the queen; but I had to choice. She even insisted I call for the royal chef to bring me some fruit and wine. The poor page didn't even know it was me, and we've known each other since childhood!"

Girard visited Margeaux whenever possible, especially late at night. They would both sneak out of the servants quarters and sit on the walls of Versailles and look at the stars and the gardens. Girard would coo sweet nothings into the ears of Margeaux and they would consider their lives outside the castle. They both entered into indentured service to the royal family the same year. In three years they would be able to continue their services or retire to take on a new role or life elsewhere. Later that month Louis the XVI was going to leave Versailles for the first time in years to negotiate with Benjamin Franklin of the United States, a country which had rebelled against France's greatest enemy: England. This was when everything changed.

 

[angelicxdream]

Waking up to another dreary morning in Versailles, Marie Antoinette had barely risen out of bed, when she had noticed, and wasn't surprised, to see her husband had already left for his duties as King of France. She felt lonely, caressing the spot where the bed sheets had the imprint of his body. She had just been married a month ago, and still wasn't used to not being able to rise every morning with her husband. Most times, she wouldn't even feel him rise, as she was a deep sleeper, and he was quiet as a mouse as he rose. Climbing out of bed, she walked toward the windows, and pushed the curtains apart, and opened the windows, feeling the fresh embrace of rain hitting her pale skin, rubbing her eyes tiredly. The rain seemed to have woken her up a bit.

Lazily, she shoved her feet into a pair of slippers, and opened the doors that connected her bedroom into her own individual bathroom, beginning to splash her face with warm water, and toweling her face dry. She felt her feet lead her down the familiar path to her individual room that she had installed, filled with shoes, rows and rows of shoes, threatening to spill over onto the floor, an array of clothing, that was bursting from her many closets, and jewellery, which sat perched onto her vanity. She sat herself on the seat in front of the vanity, looking at herself in the mirror for a few seconds, before she heard the rustling, of "Quickly! Quickly!", of hushed demands, of commands and quiet arguments of servants hoping that she didn't hear, as they came knocking on her door.

"Come in."

Her hairdresser, her ladies in waiting, and a couple of servants she had gotten close to came through the door, already touching her clothes, picking up a hairbrush and running it through her thin, straw blond hair. Sometimes, when she had enough, she would tell them to leave, and that they had angered her. This usually happened when her hair was too tangled, that the brush would start to pull at loose strands, and begin to hurt her. A pale lavender dress was placed on her slender body, a necklace was hung on her neck, her hair was piled in a tight bun on top of her head, and heels were stepped into. She stared at her face in the mirror, covered up with powder, and lipstick, it was no wonder she wanted to escape her life sometimes. Every minute of every day was so meticulously planned that she felt like at the end of each day, she couldn't do anything but drop of exhaustion. The letter from her mother that sat on her vanity reminded her that she had a role to fulfill.

Not to mention, she felt so alone. She hadn't found much of a connection with Louis, and of course, her mother had blamed her, that she couldn't inspire passion in her husband. They hadn't laid together since they had gotten married. She had become intimidated by her mother, that recently, she hadn't bothered opening the letter, too afraid of it's contents. Walking from her vanity to a sofa in her room, she folded her hands over her lap, and was told the agenda for today. On a good day, she would have one, two dinner parties to attend, before coming home and able to really eat, and to really enjoy herself before going to sleep.

Stopping midway, she said, "I'd like to see Margeaux please."

 

[PrinceCaspian]

Girard and Margeaux had been sitting on the battlement watching the sun rise together. For a few minutes of each day they could come here, be together without duties or tasks and they could hold hands and enjoy only the sun and each other. It was a chilly morning. The smell of bread baking in the ovens of the palace came wafting over the walls and Girard and Margeaux giggled and went to get breakfast.

One of the benefits of working in the palace is that they had the best of everything. The bread was still hot and the butter so fresh that it melted on contact with the crusty small baguette the baker passed to them with a wink. They shared their morning bread with smiles and the occasional giggle when Margeaux smeared butter onto his cheek, playfully. He produced a handkerchief and wiped away any trace of the butter and smiled.

He thought how he could steal her away from the castle on day. How he could make her his and take her away to a quiet life in the heart of Bordeaux. Together they would grow grapes, press wine and spend their evenings laughing. It was a wonderful dream, and Girard was going to make it happen. It was nearly 7:00, when their official duty would begin. Girard escorted Margeaux to the castle. They parted ways, with their fingertips lingering against each other until they parted ways and Girard walked back to the guesthouse. Typically his guests did not rouse until later, a pleasant side effect to the guests being allowed all the wine they could drink. Girard made his way back, greeting many of his fellow servants on his way. He would count down the hours until 7:00pm, where perhaps he might come upon Margeaux as though by accident on her way from the palace to the servant's quarters.

Margeaux had the hardest of the jobs in the palace. Personally attending to the "Ostrich" as she was called outside of the castle. She was fickle, short-tempered and was inconsolable on some days. This was a byproduct of having anything she wanted. There were no challenges for Marie Antoinette, she had to but mutter the words that she wanted something and it was brought to her - usually on a silver platter. Margeaux was one of the queen's true confidants, unlike many of the other servants. Margeaux genuinely cared about Queen Antoinette, perhaps it was because they both shared Austrian descent. Margeaux's mother was from Linz whereas Marie Antoinette was from Vienna. Sometimes they would even whisper in German together, just to help madam Antoinette when she was homesick.

Margeaux arrived in the servants entrance and was immediately notified that the queen requested her presence. She did not know why and was flustered as to how she could be so foolish as to not be there when she was needed. She fretted while walking, nearly running, to the personal chambers of Marie Antoinette. She checked her appearance at the door for a minute before walking in. Her dress, apron and hair were all straight. She likely had a little flush on her cheeks from walking so quickly, but that did not matter. Her hands were clean and everything seemed to be in order. She let out a sigh and walked into the room. "I am told you wanted to see me, your Majesty?"

 

[angelicxdream]

"I can't deal with these people!"

Marie turned and addressed the people in her room, "Get OUT!" She laid length-wise on the couch, with a warm cloth on her head, heavily breathing. She was irritated at Margeaux. Where had she been? Inside the room, it was only Margeaux and Marie Antoinette. "Where have you been for the last hour where your Queen had been dealing with these incompetent people? I do not have time, nor the energy to deal with these people. I should not have to deal with these problems. I deserve more than that. In fact, if they do not want to behave in a manner that is acceptable, they can be easily replaced." It was an echo of what would happen with Margeaux if she was not kept in the Queen's favor.

"Please. Do not bother me with any stupid excuses. Do not bother me with any meaningless, empty, artificial apologies that you don't mean." She placed the warm cloth on the table beside her, and remarked, "You have been spending a lot of time with that boy." That's all she said. But it had a million implications. If a boy was in a picture, it would make her think silly, foolish thoughts at work, it would take her away from her responsibilities, and be cast in a permanent dream-like state.

"I'm tired. And I have a headache." Marie groaned, and opened the doors to her bedroom, "I would like some soup." She was purposely vague. It had to be soup she would like to eat. If she was brought the wrong soup, it would be thrown at said servant. If she was brought too much soup, she would look at it in disgust and it would be thrown at said servant. "Cancel all my appointments." She was being easy on Margeaux, she didn't have to say that, she should already know that she had to cancel her appointments on day when she was feeling ill.

Immediately, she took off her shoes, and her dress, and slumped back under the covers. Hugging a pillow, she heard Margeaux quickly run down the hall, to do her bidding. She was not a patient woman. If she did not return with a servant with a bowl of soup, or herself with a bowl of soup, fast enough she would tell her that she no longer wanted soup anymore, and that she could tell the chef that the Queen did not drink the soup because of the inability of Margeaux to follow simple orders.

 

[PrinceCaspian]

Margeaux knew that the queen was having a trying time today. Something must have set her off and there would be no real way to console her, except perhaps the wearing of her soup. Margeaux went through the list of soups she had seen thrown and the ones she had not seen thrown. She knew that the kitchen also never made a soup twice once her majesty had declared her dislike of it. She ran down to the kitchen and asked the chef to produce a bowl of soup for her majesty. The chef knew that Marie only consumed poultry and therefore produced a bowl of chicken soup with a croissant adorning the side of the bowl. It was not, perhaps, her favorite but it was always safe with the queen.

Margeaux brought the bowl of soup in personally with the croissant on the side. Comfort food for the queen was called for and the croissants were hot, fresh and buttery. Margeaux brought in the soup in the fine china bowl atop a silver tray with a sterling silver spoon for her soup. The soup smelled heavenly, though Margeaux knew better than to even consider inhaling deeply and showing her desire for the savory smelling broth. Instead she walked forwards and put it onto the table at the foot of the bed.

"Your majesty? I apologize for causing you such a rough start to your morning. I would never imagine of putting my service to you as second to anyone, let alone a wide-eyed boy. He... I... we are both your loyal servants. I hope the soup and croissant are to your liking." Margeaux felt like she was on the verge of tears, but knew that her majesty would torment her endlessly if she cried. "Perhaps there is something else I can get for you, your highness?"