I have binged the first season of Versailles and I am in love. Hopefully, with the second season, they develop the Marchal-Sophie storyline. Their is so much potential because they are both so resilient.
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-Julia
A faint glow of early morning light shone on Sophie de Clermont as she sat at her boudoir drinking her morning chocolate. It was an expensive drink, luxurious in taste and price. Queen Maria Theresa had recently ordered a shipment of cocoa bean from the Spanish colonies to delight the new court at Versailles. Sophie, as a court lady, was privileged with a cup of chocolate for breakfast on Sunday mornings before Mass.
As she sipped from her porcelain tea cup, Sophie heard the door to her room open. Thinking it was her maid with new linens, the young lady did not turn around. Instead, she called out, "Minette, just leave the linens on the bed. Also, pull out my green silk dress for today. It is most complimentary to my skin, is it not?"
"I find the yellow silk much more becoming on you."
The fine hairs on the back of Sophie's neck rose in panic. Inadvertently, her hand shook as she set the teacup down on her dresser. She still did not turn around to address Fabien Marchal, but kept her head down staring at her lap. Despite the rapid beating of her heart, Sophie was proud that her outward composure was somewhat intact.
It had been ten months since her employment in Marchal's army of spies. Their meetings were frequent. She would recite every secret or clandestine story she overheard. Marchal had secured her a spot in Queen Maria's retinue. It was a coveted position and offered her access to important gossip. Usually, Sophie ventured to Marchal's office in the palace's dungeons. Never had he ventured to find her.
"This is quite an unexpected visit, Monsieur. I thought you wished our arrangement to remain a secret?"
Sophie glanced up to look at Marchal. His appearance was plain. He did not wear the dandified ensemble of the other courtiers, but the cut of his clothing displayed obvious wealth. His hair was clean and properly combed. His face was indecipherable, and that was the most terrifying thing about Marchal. She had learned to read people; decipher the flagrant smiles and overt niceties of Versailles' courtiers. Sophie knew when someone was being cordial they were usually hiding something.
Not Fabien Marchal. He said one thing and meant another.
"It is still early. Most of the court is still asleep, or in their rooms recovering from the King's festivities last night. I came undetected," Marchal explained.
Yesterday had been Madame de Montespan's birthday. Montespan was now the King's official mistress. Her birthday had been a cause for the court's celebration. The revelries had lasted well into the early morning, but Sophie had retired early with a headache. No doubt that was the reason Marchal was here; to reprimand her. If Sophie was in bed, it meant she was not collecting valuable intel for him.
To gain the upper hand, and spare herself a scolding, Sophie began to apologize, "I am sorry if I left the party early. Nothing of real importance was being said and my head was hurting so much I could not see straight. I am going to Mass today and everyone shall be talking there of what happened last night. I will let you know what I hear."
The King's agent frowned and crossed his arms.
"I care not about last night. I am more concerned about your relationship with Chevalier de Roquelaure."
Without thinking, Sophie shot up to her feet. Despite Marchal's teachings, she was still a young woman whose passions overpowered her senses. The mention of her lover made Sophie nervous. They had been so careful to conceal their relationship. She should have known that Marchal would find out somehow.
Marchal advanced towards her and Sophie felt the edge of her dresser dig into her lower back. Biting her lip, Sophie gazed straight into Marchal's black eyes. She tried to channel the confidence her mother had imparted on her, but her mother had died at this man's hands. Sophie lived in constant anticipation of her own demise. She had told Marchal at the start of their agreement that death would be a welcome relief from his control. However, Sophie was selfish enough to want to live.
There were so many things she still wanted to experience.
"I take your silence as an affirmation. I do not keep you here at court to strike up flirtations with useless musicians," he growled.
"He is not just a musician. He is a nobleman from an old family!"
Sophie's retort was in vain. Marchal countered, "A minor noble from a cadet branch of a family with no power in this court!"
Even though Sophie wanted to disagree, it was all true. Leonard, the Chevalier de Roquelaure, was the younger son of a younger son employed as a music teacher in the Queen's household. Leonard's family was comfortably settled near Toulouse. He had ventured to make a name for himself at Versailles with his musical talents. Sophie had met him while he had serenaded the Queen's ladies during a game of roulette.
"You will end this affair immediately, or I will report to the Queen that the Chevalier has compromised the dignity of one of her ladies under duress," Marchal threatened. His face was mere inches away from Sophie which caused a shudder to course through her.
"Please," she softly begged. Raising her voice and yelling incoherently would do little to help the situation. She hoped levity would endeavor her to Marchal, "I promise to continue to flirt and seduce whoever you please. Leonard and I only wish to be together. He has mentioned that once he makes a little money we may be able to... I mean he has promised to…"
Her words were becoming a jumble as her confidence dwindled. Marchal was growing more disgusted by the minute, but suddenly a crooked smirk appeared on his face. He chuckled to himself. It was a mirthless sound that soured the chocolate in Sophie's stomach.
All-knowing, Marchal finished Sophie's argument, "The Chevalier promises to marry you?"
A nod of her head was all Sophie could manage. She felt the pain of last night's headache beginning to return. The air in the room was growing hot, or was that just Marchal's breath on her forehead? She needed to lie down if she was going to make it to Mass today. Leonard always saved her a spot near the choir. They usually took a walk on the grounds together after Mass. Maybe it was a juvenile fantasy; marriage to a musician. Her mother would be rolling in her grave at the idea. However, Sophie would not let Marchal take Leonard away from her.
"If I marry you will not have to deal with me anymore."
"If you marry I lose a valuable pair of eyes. You have a debt to me. Remember your dear mother killed my loyal assistant."
Sophie pushed away from Marchal attempting to dislodge herself from between the man and the dresser. He blocked her escape with his body. The struggle caused her cup of chocolate to fall off the dresser. Porcelain and chocolate crashing and shattering against the marble. The room was spinning and she felt like she was going to be ill. The young lady frowned, "I can still spy for you if I am married."
"Not in the manner which I need. An unchaperoned and, seemingly, innocent girl at court is more appealing than a married woman with a husband," Marchal tapped his wooden-soled shoe on the marble floor.
"Marriage means nothing here. Look at Madame de Montespan, she is married and the King's mistress."
The King's agent was growing impatient. He lashed out at Sophie's grabbing her wrists tightly. She did not cry out, but struggled in his grasp. Marshall shook her, "You will end it today. That is final. If you do not I will throw you out onto the street myself. Your Leonard, though a musician, is still dignified enough to not marry a common Protestant with a traitor mother."
Sophie's resolve was gone and her knees buckled. She crumbled in Marchal's grip and sunk to the floor leaning against the dresser. The spilled chocolate stained the white underskirts she wore; the brown liquid marring the pristine white cotton. Tears were spilling down her face and she hugged her body in a pathetic attempt of comfort. In these moments, Sophie longed for her mother's touch. Leonard could offer her solace, but only to such an extent. Marchal stared down at her with his unfeeling eyes.
A beat passed before Marchal stalked out of the room leaving Sophie to cry on the floor.