He kissed her, and she kissed him back!
And it lasted for the longest time.
Until Mazarin burst in.
"Stop!" he huffed, out of breath. They jumped away, and he pretended to have noticed nothing. "Sire," he panted, "pardon me, but we leave for Spain tomorrow."
Louis froze, though only for a second. He took a deep breath and smiled genteelly. "Monsieur Cardinal," he began warmly. "Please, let me stay. I would like to ask for your niece's hand in marriage."
Then the queen sauntered in, head held high. "That won't work, Louis," she said sternly. "You're forbidden!"
Cardinal Mazarin rolled his eyes. "Sire, don't be ridiculous! We've already promised to have you wed to that Spanish princess."
He didn't know what to do. He always got his way. He turned his back to them and embraced her. "Please. Monsieur Cardinal, Mother, I'm going to marry Mademoiselle Mancini."
Mazarin shook his head. "Sire, I cannot allow you to do something so…infamous? But I've never betrayed the confidence of the monarchy. You have to have your wedding in Spain, and I will choose a husband for my niece."
He glanced at her desperately. "But—but I love Marie!" he cried, finally losing composure. "I really—"
"You idiot," groaned the queen. "You cannot mix sentiments and the state!"
"And the state demands that you marry Maria Theresa!" added Mazarin. "For peace."
The king shrunk away, pathetically. Marie gazed at him desperately, imploring him to speak, but what did he do?
"You are absolutely forbidden from doing this," spat the queen.
Nothing.
"You'll be the death of me," she groaned, fiddling with her dress' pompous ruff as she walked out.
The king did nothing.
"Sire, tomorrow we leave for Spain," sighed Mazarin, shaking his head. "Prepare yourself for the journey.
"Louis!" Marie whispered, throwing herself into his arms. "Say something…"
"And you, Marie!" he continued, disgusted. "I'm sending you to Brouage, in exile. We can't have you running wildly around Paris any longer. The monarchy deserves better than this idiocy." He stormed out, red robes trailing behind him.
They were alone again, and Louis held her quietly for a very long time, until she dared to speak again.
"Oh, Louis," she whispered. "Why didn't you stop them?" She pulled away and turned to face him, eyes beginning to fill with tears. "And why can't you stop them?"
He bowed his head in shame. He had no answer.
Marie gently cupped his chin in her hand and lifted his head, their eyes meeting. "Well?" she asked softly. "Louis…?"
He shook his head and looked away. "It's forbidden. We can't…we…"
Marie's face grew red. "And you're the king—the king of France!" she cried. "Measure up! Remind them who you are!"
"It's forbidden," he repeated lamely.
She slapped him. "And this is what we've learned," she spat. "That love is…unspeakable. Uselessly unspeakable." She stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind her.