Title: The Last Champagne
Pairing: LxRaito
Rating: PG-13
Warning/s: Shounen-ai. Nothing explicit, though.
Word count: 6774
Note: Some themes in this story were inspired by Madame du Barry, written by Catherine Hermary-Vieille, which is an excellent novel and we highly recommend story was co-written by my dearest friend Borovice and it took us three bottles of champagne and one bottles of red wine to finish it. Well, let the feast begin!
Summary: An AU in its finest. Starring L XV as the King of France and Raito du Barry as his lover in a story of love and debauchery, lust and deceit. "Sire," Raito spoke up, "there is a twig tangled in your wig. May I remove it?"
The Last Champagne
The setting sun bathed the castle's walls in a crimson glow, while the thousands of candles in crystal holders sent glints of light dancing on the faces of the courtiers, assembled in the throne hall. They were anxiously waiting for the arrival of Count du Barry, the King's new lover, who was to be presented to the Court. This sensational event had been on everyone's lips for last few weeks; now the long awaited moment finally arrived.
A fanfare was heard to sound and a wave of excited whispers whipped across the sale.
"Enters Count Raito du Barry!"
Two lackeys opened the door wings and in came an attractive young man, clad in a crimson brocade doublet embroided with golden roses. His knee-length trousers were golden, too, and they were ensembled with fine white stockings and black shoes, which had their golden buckles spangled with little brilliants – the King's latest gift. He also wore a tie around his neck, ending in a deluge of light, gauzy lace flounces. His hair was slightly frizzled, with the faintest touch of powder.
Dazzling appearance wasn't the Count's only advantage. It seemed that he also mastered the Court protocol with remarkable grace. Immediately after his arrival he bowed down before the King, who was dressed in a blue ermine robe embroided with golden French lilies. Raito du Barry didn't forget to kiss the hem of this robe. Then he gave respectable bows to the other members of the royal family in the exact order dictated by the protocol.
L XV gave him a gracious smile, because he was pleased with his lover's performance. He clapped his hands.
"Let the feast begin!"
The music started to play and the courtiers left the hall for the gardens, where they were entertained with a theatrical play, in which a party of actors in high powdered wigs with thick layers of bright-colored make-up on their faces played out a piece about the simple life of modest shepherds.
But by no means were all attracted by the performance. The crowd broke into numerous groups that were drinking champagne, dancing, playing cards and other games and above all this they lead various conversations about one topic in particular - count Raito du Barry.
In the middle of these delights the fireworks started.
VIVAT L XV, a fiery writing on the sky proclaimed for a while, before it fell to a thousand shreds of blazing light.
A young page, who came to serve to the Court that very morning, was staring at all of this with his eyes opened wide.
"This is madness," he whispered.
"No, my lad," an elderly nobleman replied and took a glass of champagne from the page's silver tray, "this is Versailles."
The feast was over. The King had finally tired of his lover's presence and went to rest, weary with worldly delights.
Raito du Barry entered his apartment, adjacent to the King's chambers, and sat at the toilette table in one of his apartment's numerous boudoirs. He gave his reflection a thoughtful glance. It was this very face that had brought him here.
His father was a priest, but, as can be gathered from a fact that he was his father, didn't stay exactly celibate and seduced his mother, a modest seamstress who was regularly visiting the cloister where his father resided in, to mend the inhabitants' clothes.
That's why he was raised by a single mother, who went to Paris soon after his birth. There she met with her former lover, a rich financier named Billard-Dumonceaux. He offered her a job as a housekeeper, which she accepted. Later she married Billard-Dumonceux's employee, and together with the contribution of her employer and Raito's biological father friar Soichiro Yagami they could afford to send Raito to a cloister school, which at those times offered the best education attainable.
A cloister school… A wry smile appeared on Raito's lips at this memory, for such education didn't really match with his later career. Billard-Dumonceaux, he repeated to himself. That name had a certain ring of fate to it. But then it well should have, for it was at his parlor, where
the champagne sparkled in their glasses. Countess Misa-Amane du Barry took a small sip and threw a skittish glance at Raito Yagami, a pretty, inexperienced young thing who had just returned from a cloister school.
"Allow me to invite you to a dinner. It will be just us and a few of my good friends," she said with a smile and a flirt of her elegant black fan.
That such a noble lady should pay heed to him made Raito feel honored and he didn't hesitate to accept the invitation.
The dinner took place in a small parlor that had its walls covered with dark blue tapestry. It was lit up by a marble fireplace and a couple of candles; the resulting effect was that of the place at the same time cozy and oppressing, pleasant and slightly menacing.
Together with Raito and Countess Misa du Barry, there were eight people present. The most significant guest was Duke Watari de Richelieu.
The dinner was served; it consisted of the main dish, a stuffed pheasant with cranberry sauce, chestnut cake for a dessert and muscatel wine for a beverage. Raito had soon won the favor of everyone present with his good looks, inborn grace and social skills. Yet he felt a little bit uneasy, because some of the guests participated in a conversation that obviously concerned his person, but from which he was able to hear nothing but a few words.
"I think that he is the ideal man for our purpose," said one of these people, a forty-something marquis with a pointed black beard.
This was maddening. What kind of purpose are they talking about?
But this wasn't the only thing on Raito's mind. There were also the coquettish glances of Countess Misa du Barry and not exactly coquettish, but disquietingly intense stares of Duke Watari de Richelieu.
The Duke, who was nearing eighty but still kept himself in a shape, emptied his wine glass and took a bite of a pheasant leg with youthful zest. Raito noticed that he still had plenty teeth of his own, which at his age was quite remarkable. The Duke wouldn't take his eyes off him during the whole dinner.
"Duke," Misa talked to him with a smile, "you look tired; wouldn't you like to have a rest in my chambers?"
Raito thought that the Duke looked far from being tired; right on the contrary he seemed to be the freshest one of the company.
The Duke put the pheasant leg aside and said:
"That's very kind of you, my dear lady. I'd like to ask this charming young man to accompany me."
Countess Misa gave Raito a subtle kick under the table, indicating that it would be desirable to obey. Raito rose from his chair.
When they reached Misa's bed chamber and Watari de Richelieu locked the door behind them, Raito considered taking off his doublet right away, but the Duke stopped him.
"Wait, my beauty, first I need to explain the matters to you. We wish that you become the lover of our king L XV. We think that your qualities match, if not surpass those of the King's former lover monsieur de Pompadour."
A slight blush rose to Raito's cheeks. It wasn't caused by the atrocity of that idea, but rather by its correspondence with Raito's own plans.
"What am I to do?" he asked in a low voice.
The Duke gave him a brief outline of the plans of the clique he represented. The main goal was to get rid of the adversary first minister and replace him with d'Aiguillon, the Duke's niece.
Raito as the King's lover was to persuade the ruler of the merits of this exchange, using every mean possible.
"It's not going to be easy, my dear," said Watari de Richelieu, "you're very beautiful, but there are other matters you must concern yourself with. You must gain a sound knowledge of the court protocol, so we shall find you a tutor. Apart from that you should also be skilled in a certain art…" Watari deliberately left his sentence unfinished and licked his thin lips. Raito took that as the prompt to finally take off his doublet – among other things.
So it happened that Raito lost his hitherto guarded chastity. When he woke up in the morning, he discovered a letter and a diamond bracelet lying on the pillow next to him.
My delightful friend!
I was obliged to leave for Versailles early in the morning, so I missed the wonderful opportunity to wake up by your side. Please accept this humble gift as my apology.
Yours faithfully
Watari de Richelieu
Raito clasped the bracelet around his wrist and watched it glint in the sunshine. It's just a humble diamond bracelet, but it does cheer one up, he smirked.
Then there was a sudden knock at the door.
"Enter, please," said Raito. In came Countess Misa-Amane du Barry, dressed in a pink muslin negligee, which didn't leave much space for imagination.
"Good morning, my friend. Duke de Richelieu had been praising you immensely. He said that it was a long time since he made love to someone without experiencing a failure. Have he explained the state of our affairs to you?"
"Only very briefly."
"I'll gladly provide you with more detailed information," said Misa and sat down on the bed right next to him.
"The Duke probably told you what our goal is. But there is a long way to go yet…" Countess du Barry grasped Raito's shoulders and made him lie down on the bed.
"Duke de Rrichelieu might have told you that you'd need the lessons of etiquette. But those are not given for free; you will have to cover the expenses."
"And how do I do that? I have just left school and have no money of my own yet."
Countess Misa du Barry giggled.
"There is a way, but it's so indecent that I can't say it aloud. I'll whisper it in your ear," she said and leaned to his ear, her breasts brushing against his naked chest.
"What!? If I did that, the whole of Paris would proclaim that they slept with me!" Raito objected.
Misa just laughed.
"What does the whole of Paris mean to you? The King must learn of your existence in one way or another. Remember – what matters is that they talk about you, not what they have to say. Our King is a very curious man."
That was very true. It didn't take too long and Raito and his friend and accomplice Count de Ligne received an invitation to a hunt, organized by L XV. Raito had at this point cast aside his vulgar surname Yagami and went under the title of Count de Barry, acting as a husband of his benefactress Misa, which was made possible with the said man living far away in the country and not a soul in Paris knowing him.
When the morning of the hunt arrived, Raito paid special attention to his attire. He put on a simple green velvet doublet, adorned with just a few silver clasps. The doublet was matched with brown riding-breeches and black top-boots polished to a high shine. On his head he wore a black cocked hat.
When Raito and Count de Ligne approached the hunting party, Raito couldn't tear his eyes away from the King. As contrasted to the other hunters who wore all green and brown he was dressed in midnight blue. He wore a matching blue ribbon in his wig and all of this was crowned by a blue velvet hat with a couple of peacock feathers.
Now an official introduction was to take place, but the King was so eager about the hunting that he gave a signal to the bugleman to play his instrument and a fanfare was heard to sound. The hunt began.
Never mind that, Raito thought, spurred his horse and thanks to skillful maneuvering soon found his way right to the King's side.
"A hare!" cried L XV with vigor and spurred his horse to gallop. He didn't pay any notice to branches that were lashing across his face; the only thing he concentrated on was the prey.
Raito followed his example and soon they were far ahead the rest of the hunters, racing forward with an incredible, hazardous speed.
Raito inwardly swore. Sacrebleau, I could have slain that hare three times now, but it is advisable to let the King have the honor. But he somehow doesn't seem to really wish to do so…
Suddenly the hare took a refuge in a hole running deeply under the ground and it was gone.
They stopped their horses and let them have some rest. They too had run out of breath; the King even had to lean against a tree for support, panting heavily. Drips of sweat glistened on his forehead.
They had both lost their hats in their rush and were looking rather ruffled.
"Sire," Raito spoke up, "there is a twig tangled in your wig. May I remove it?"
"If you please," L XV replied indifferently. His indifference soon disappeared, though. He really didn't except Raito to take off his whole wig and unceremoniously drop it on the ground.
Raito saw something that he didn't expect, too. He was taken by surprise by the abundance of unruly black hair that magically appeared under the dull white wig. Blue reflections flickered in it, never mind the forest dusk.
It's a shame to hide something like that under a wig, Raito mused.
"Your ways are brazen, Raito du Barry," the King said.
"Does your majesty complain?" Raito asked, succumbing to the urge to plunge his fingers deep into that black silken mass.
By the way of answer, his majesty knocked him down to the moss and started to passionately kiss the nape of his neck.
I take it as 'no', Raito thought and it was his last coherent idea for a very long time.
Raito smiled at his reflection. Everything is going according to the plans of Duke de Richelieu. The time came, when Raito could start acting out a plan of his own.
Raito du Barry soon opened his own parlor, in which he entertained the new friends he made at the Court and also his old accomplices. Among the most frequent visitors were Duke Watari de Richelieu, Countess Misa du Barry, Count de Ligne and Baron de Mikami.
It was also expected of him that he should spend some time in the parlors of other prominent courtiers. Raito was quite popular for his pleasing appearance and dignified demeanor; nevertheless his presence seemed to bring bad luck.
When Marquis Grand-Jurneau arranged a boat trip, he ended up drowning with both of his mistresses.
Countess de Tourniere celebrated her birthday a week later; she and other five courtiers died after eating a poisonous birthday cake.
And finally ten days after this event the Queen Marie Leszczynska passed away, none of the doctors having found the cause of her short, yet violent sickness.
Raito now wasn't receiving quite as many invitations as he did when he first came to the Court. There were also those who had shunned him from the beginning and when he met with them in the hallways, they ostentatiously averted their gazes.
Today was one of those days when Raito wasn't demanded anywhere. After he had tired of the presence of Countess Misa and Baron de Mikami, he went to see the King, who was in the company of Madame du Beau and Madame de Veau.
When he was as far as twenty steps from their parlor, he could already hear excited voices coming from the inside of the room.
"It belongs to Marquise de Guillom!"
"No, it doesn't. His are much more hairy. He doesn't yield to the etiquette and refuses to shave them. This leg surely belongs to-"
"Madame, it's not your turn. Be quiet and drink a glass of champagne with me," the King commanded Madame du Beau.
Raito shook his head and entered the room.
When L XV laid his eyes on him, he asked:
"Do you care to join us, Count du Barry? We are not able to discern whose leg it might be."
Raito inwardly groaned. The game known under the name 'Whose leg is this?' couldn't be counted among his favorites.
"It belongs to Baron de Pond-Pomporac," he guessed. It seemed to be his lucky day, for the limb disappeared behind the curtain to reappear again, this time with the half-naked, but complete body of its holder, Baron de Pond-Pomperac.
Madame de Veau spared Raito an acid glance, because it was to be her turn now and Baron de Pond-Pomperac was her secret guess.
King L XV turned to Raito.
"Well done," he praised him, "is there anything you wish for?"
"There is indeed, my lord. I wish to speak to you in privacy."
L XV parted with the company and they headed for the King's chambers.
L XV took a seat in a comfortable armchair, cushioned with a white silk with golden embroidery. Raito remained standing, because the King had yet to give him the permission to sit in his presence. That was bad. It signified that the King wasn't pleased with him.
"What is it that you have to say?" L XV asked.
"I have a certain request."
"So that's why you have interrupted me? I'm not here just for you, you know. I need to pay my attention to other courtiers as well. It's my duty as the King to do so."
Raito suppressed a sneer. To play 'Whose leg is this?' is the King's duty?
"I sincerely apologize for having hindered your highness from performing your … royal duties," Raito now didn't even try to conceal his irony, "but it's quite an urgent matter."
"Is that so? May it be that you need new brilliants for a doublet?" The King didn't spare Raito his sarcasm either.
A flicker of anger passed through Raito's eyes.
"No," he snapped, "I want to talk with you about that pardon you want to grant to those two criminals who robbed Mr. Valentin's bakery. I wish you didn't do so."
"Why? All they stole was a few loaves of bread and some cakes."
"It would set a bad precedent, sir. Every theft is a crime and there is only one punishment to a crime – the death penalty. That's the only way to secure that it won't happen ever again!" exclaimed Raito with determination.
The King stayed silent for a while, playing with his champagne glass with an undecipherable smile on his lips.
"My dear friend," he finally spoke. "Allow to remind you of exactly how you used to make your living before we met on a certain hunt. According to the laws of my country, prostitution is a crime."
Raito turned pale with anger and humiliation.
"I'm sorry for wasting your precious time. Allow me to take my leave, so you can join your friends to have your fun… oh, excuse me, my tongue slipped. What I meant was to fulfill your royal duties."
L XV didn't look at all as though he wanted to leave. On the contrary; he shifted in his armchair to find a more comfortable position.
"Don't give up so easily, Raito. I'd give your request a second chance…if you put on a suppliant's attire."
"A suppliant's attire?" Raito repeated, suspicious. "What do you mean?"
L XV rang a bell and a servant appeared with a paper box, handing it over to Raito.
"This attire was designed by my direct order by my friend Madame du Beau."
Oh my God, Raito thought, opening the box with trepidation.
A negligee, what else. I could have expected that.
The said piece of garment was long, but by no means modest. It was made of fine red silk and adorned with golden tigers.
Raito disappeared behind a curtain and a moment later came out in the attire of a suppliant. He kneeled before the King.
"Your majesty, I want to put forth a humble plea."
"Speak forth, suppliant," the King commanded, trying to maintain a neutral expression, but a slight twitching of the corners of his mouth gave him away.
Raito repeated his previous request, but this time he chose different, more humble expressions.
"And why should I do that?" the King asked.
Raito felt inclined to repeat his previous arguments, but he was aware that they would get him nowhere so he tried a different strategy.
"Because I'm asking so nicely," he said, kissing L's shoe buckle.
"Then ask on," the King said with an amused expression.
Raito untied the velvet blue ribbon at the King's stocking top and pulled the white stocking down.
"I wonder whose leg this is," he said jokingly and kissed L's knee.
"Plead on, suppliant, I'm listening."
And Raito pleaded and pleaded, until sometime in the early morning hours his pleas were granted and the poor thieves ended up at the gallows.
"Do you want to go hunting with me, son?" L XV asked.
The Dauphin, a seven-year-old, quite stout boy dressed in a green velvet child suit, was staring somewhere behind his father with a dull expression on his face.
"I want a cake."
L XV acted as though he didn't hear him.
"And what about a game of chess?"
The Dauphin raised his puffy index finger and pointed at a large porcelain bowl.
"Dad, I want some of these cakes. Chess is so boring."
Raito du Barry, who sat at the corner of the room, reading, fought back an urge to laugh.
L XV turned to him.
"He didn't take after me, I know. Sadly, the only thing he had inherited from me is my sweet tooth; the rest is all form his mother, may she rest in peace."
The Dauphin, who didn't even noticed he had been spoken of, was stuffing himself with cheesecakes, which were handed to him by his nurse-maid.
Raito's thoughts revolved around the deceased Queen. She wasn't too pretty or smart a woman; the most interesting thing about her was that she was the Queen and wife of L XV, who didn't mourn her passing much. Raito inwardly sneered when he remembered how naively she had accepted his exquisite gift – a prayer book adorned with sapphires, the said book having mysteriously disappeared immediately after her death. There's no need to tell that it contained lethal venom.
Now when the Queen is out of the way I can try to carry out my boldest plan. I'll try to persuade the King to-
"Count du Barry, I'm talking to you! Are you listening to me?" The King's voice interrupted Raito's train of thoughts.
"Yes, sire?"
"I'm asking you how you like the bride I've chosen for my son," L XV said, pointing at the portrait of a blonde girl of approximately seven years of age.
"Charming," Raito said, "who is it?"
"Marie-Antoinette, the daughter of Maria-Theresa, the empress of Austria."
Raito said that he saw the King's choice as the most fortunate.
"I should think so," the King assented and took a cake.
L XV was sitting at the head of the long table, surrounded by ministers and councilors. Well, that was certainly true in a physical sense; mentally the King appeared to by somewhere far away. His eyes alternated between the closed doors and windows, which were giving a view of the forest.
"The poor are rioting," proclaimed d´Aiguillon, niece of Watari de Richelieu and the new first minister, who gained his position thanks to Raito du Barry's plea.
"They have no money to buy food or pay taxes," he continued.
"Then lower the taxes," said the King absent-mindly.
"We can't do that, your highness. The national treasure is almost gone. We need money to build the new roads. We've been postponing this for two years," argued another minister, whose field of work included the transport in the kingdom.
"Then raise them," replied the King with the same absent-mindness as before.
"But your highness, the poor…"
"But sire, the roads…"
L XV made a sudden movement with his right hand. Something flew through the air and a golden coin appeared in the middle of the table. It had the King's profile on it.
"Flip it, gentlemen. It seems to be the only way to solve this."
A stunned silence descended on the room. L XV regarded the noblemen.
"And where, pray to tell, is the minister of finance?" he asked.
"Baron de la Garde has fallen ill and can't leave his bed."
"Then I'm postponing this meeting until when he can join us. This matter cannot be decided in his absence," said the King and left the room.
Madame de Veau and Madame du Beau were already waiting for him.
"Is everything ready?" he asked.
"Yes, sire. We are all waiting for you," said madame de Veau with a short laugh and flirted her green fan.
The King turned to his lover who was standing two steps afar from them.
"Haven't you changed your mind, Count?"
"I'm afraid not, your highness. With your permission, I'm not going to join this…hunt, sire."
"The hunt" really deserved to be referred to in quotation marks. For it was a lobster hunt; the animals were released in the forest as the prey. But that would have been too easy, so the King decided that the hunters were to have their eyes blindfolded.
Afterwards came the magnificent dinner, where the captured lobsters were served together with gallons of champagne.
Raito didn't take part in anything of this. From the very morning he had been in a wretched mood. He had the chance to notice that the number of his enemies had increased remarkably. When he walked down the corridors of Versailles, there were many of those who pretended to be deep in the conversation just to not be obliged to say hello to him. When the same situation repeated for the fourth time, Raito lost his patience and stopped right in front of one those offending groups, measuring the noblemen boldly.
Duke de Liancourt gave him a deprecating look.
"How much does a title cost today, Count du Barry? Or should I call you Mr. Yagami instead?"
Raito spent the rest of the afternoon sulking in his apartment. The words had stung him in a vulnerable place, because they spoke the truth.
The last blow came with Baron de Mikami, who brought him a bunch of hateful pamphlets targeted at no one other than Raito.
Raito easily recognized the unmistakable handwriting and style of Madame de Veau and Madame du Beau. He angrily tossed them away. It was time to pay the King a visit.
"I want to put forth a plea, your majesty."
L XV was obviously exhausted after the daylong debauchery, because he didn't even ask Raito to wear the suppliant's attire and just waved his hand.
"I wish you sent Madame du Beau and Madame de Veau away from the Court. They despise me and they are turning everyone against me. Read, sire!" he cried and threw the bunch of papers at the King's lap.
L XV randomly picked one and raised it to his eyes.
"Son of Yagami the Friar,
Your tiger attire
Sets the King on fire?"
Raito turned red.
"That's not the worst part, sire."
L XV skimmed through the other pamphlets. A whore, found his way to the King through the beds of the whole of Paris, had to buy his title…
"Well, that's all true," he said calmly.
Raito's hands clenched into fists.
"But that doesn't mean anyone should be writing about it! Please send them away!"
"That's out of the question," the King said. "And no pleas would help you this time. Madame du Beau and Madame Veau are to stay. These ladies are dear friends of mine and I enjoy their company."
"Would you choose them over me?" Raito couldn't contain himself anymore.
L XV was silent.
"Why-why don't you just do anything? Why do you let them humiliate me? I thought I meant something to you, but it seems that I was mistaken."
Raito's eyes welled up with tears.
L XV still wouldn't say anything, his dark eyes giving Raito a thoughtful gaze.
Raito's face suddenly twisted into an ugly grimace.
"Lawliett, you must realize," he said, "that when someone offends me, it is in fact you who is offended because I am your-"
"Shut up," L XV ordered icily, "and don't calm by that name, you know I don't like it."
Raito didn't seem to have heard him.
"Yet my position here could be so different. If I married you, they would have to respect me, even the Duke of Liancourt, and all the others as well!"
"If you…what?!" For the first time in many years, L XV was actually shocked.
"If I married you. I know that it sounds like madness, but remember Henry VIII. To be able to marry Anne Boleyn he left the Catholic Church and established a church of his own. Can't you just do the same thing – to establish a church with the doctrine that would make it possible for you and me to marry each other?"
"But that's-"
Raito didn't wait for the King's objections and interrupted him.
"There's no reason why it couldn't work out. Now when the Queen is finally dead we can-"
L XV interrupted Raito, but it wasn't a verbal interruption. It was carried out by his hand.
The strength of the blow knocked Raito to the ground. He sat there, absent-mindly rubbing his sore cheek and looking at the King with furious eyes.
"How dare you?" the King burst out.
Raito twisted his lips into an imitation of a smile.
"You have never loved her anyway, so why do you care, Lawliett?"
"That's enough." L XV wasn't yelling anymore; now he was speaking in a very quiet voice.
"Get out of here."
Raito's lips trembled. He looked as though he wanted say something more, but eventually he rose and left without a word.
When he reached his bed chamber and closed the door behind him, he collapsed on his bed and his tears fell on a silver silk pillow, spangled with tiny brilliants – the King's latest gift.
When his tears dried up, he sat at the ebony desk to write a few letters, which left Versailles that very night.
Thousands of candles flared up in their crystal holders and the mirrors around the walls multiplied their reflections ad infinitum.
Tonight there was dancing at the famous Hall of Mirrors and at many other Versailles halls as well, for it was the time of the biggest annual ball. It was officially given by the King, but the actual organization was done by Baron de Mikami who himself asked the King to be allowed to take on this responsibility.
The King wasn't dancing. He sat at his place with the glass of red wine in his hand, listening to his friends, from times to times giving an absent nod as a response.
His eyes wouldn't leave Raito du Barry. The King wasn't the only one who couldn't get his eyes off him; Raito was the centre of everyone's attention.
He was dressed in black silk, his only jewels being ruby buttons and rubies on the buckles of his shoes.
He seemed to not be able to stay long in one place. He was constantly whirling around the dance floor or talking with one or another group of courtiers. The sound of his radiant laughter resonated throughout the hall. That evening even his sworn enemies caught themselves succumbing to his charms.
A series of gunshot was heard, announcing that the fireworks had started. Some of the courtiers started to pour out of the hall.
"Watch out!" someone cried out.
The next moment the biggest crystal holder fell down and the cries of the courtiers mingled with the sound of shattering glass.
The screams got louder as some people's dresses caught fire. The crowd was pressing forward the narrow passage that formed the only way out of the hall, treading on those who were unfortunate enough to fall down.
Some ladies' crinolines caught fire and were burning with a bright flame, and the omnipresent mirrors on the walls multiplied their reflections ad infinitum, so those who were still in the room felt as though they were sealed in a fire trap.
L XV was standing outside in the gardens, watching the fiery writing on the sky that was declaring his glory to the world. Behind his back the servants were running back and fro with buckets of water.
A set of rubies flared through the darkness next to him.
"What a beautiful night, isn't it, Count du Barry."
"It is indeed," Raito agreed.
"Please come with me," L XV ordered. Raito obeyed and they were returning to the chateau together.
"Sire! Sire!" a voice called from somewhere off the side and soon a man reached them. It was Jean-Pierre du Lac, the King's secretary.
"The fire has been extinguished, your highness. Twelve people died, including Duke de Liancourt, and ten of others have been wounded. No one knows what could have caused that the candle holder fell."
L XV gave him a grave look.
"I will examine this matter personally. The culprits won't escape the hardest punishment."
The door of the King's chambers was closed with a loud thud.
"Is there anything you want to tell me?" L XV asked straight away.
"Is it necessary?"
The King made a few steps to the window, his back to Raito.
"Raito," he said, flatly, "I know that you killed them all, Grand-Jurneau and his mistresses, Madame de Tourniere and everyone who ate her cake, Liacourt and all who died in the fire today. And my wife, of course. What I don't know is why you did that. You couldn't seriously think that it would help your position here, could you?"
"Sire," Raito spoke up, "look at the life everyone's leading here. Parties, balls, hunts, games, fireworks. Tables full of delicacies and champagne. Look at all those dresses and jewels, whose value is almost impossible to estimate. And then look outside, at the thousands who are dying of hunger. You are their king, their ruler; their lives are in your hands. And these lives you are throwing away. You spend your life in debauchery, putting the state affairs off until tomorrow and then until the day after tomorrow.
I'm calling myself Count du Barry now, but my mother was a seamstress. I know what hunger is. When I realized that the whole country is suffering because of the profligate life at the Court, I have decided to change that.
I've chosen to fight the evil using its own weapons. I had to become a sinner to fight the sinners back. I've humiliated myself, sold my very soul just to be able to do that. And then I've started to eliminate the worst evildoers, one after another…"
During his long soliloquy that did express everything he had devoted his whole life to, had to sacrifice his dignity and his very self for it, he couldn't help but feel that when he was saying aloud the same ideas that have been fueling his inner flame for so long, they kept coming out as empty as soap-bubbles, cracking and disappearing without a trace.
He kept on talking, but he didn't have a clue what he was speaking about anymore. The only thing that mattered was the King's face. What a change it underwent; the way Raito knew it it had always expressed indifference, superiority or mild amusement. Now this face was altering between fury, disappointment and deep sorrow.
"What was to come next? My death?" the King asked deafly.
Raito stopped blabbering.
"N-no…believe me, I have never-"
L XV turned to face him.
"Of course not, why would you do that? With my death your influence here disappears. You are somebody only as long as I am alive. My death doesn't fit your plans."
"I don't give a damn about my plans anymore. Something happened to me, something I had not predicted at all. When I met you, I… Lawliett, I mean, sire, may I-"
"Call me whatever you like, it doesn't matter anymore."
Raito said it.
L XV sighed. It was just another lie, but a beautiful one.
Raito sat down on the ground before the King and raised his eyes to meet L's.
"Before you send for the guards, can I have a one more plea?"
L's lips curled into a sad little smile.
"You're not wearing a suppliant's attire, but speak forth."
"I want to spend the rest of this night with you. Then do with me whatever you wish."
L XV sat down next to Raito and embraced him without a single word.
The last glimmers of the fireworks fell into the room through the high, narrow windows and for a short instance lit the two figures lying on the carpet, the king of France and his lover, a mass murderer, who were clinging to each other like two children lost in the night.
The day had dawned. L XV opened his eyes. Raito Yagami, the fake Count du Barry, was breathing steadily in his unperturbed sleep.
L XV shook his head in disbelief. Where had such innocence come from?
It's just a lie, he kept on reminding himself, but still his hand did find its way to that angelic face and brushed aside a stray lock from Raito's forehead.
He knew what he had to do, but he couldn't make himself go and call in the guards. He knew that there was no solution, but he just wasn't ready to accept it yet. It could still be delayed, at least a little. He could still clear his head on a horseback.
The King mounted on his black horse and spurred him to a canter and then to a gallop. They were rushing trough the trees, everything around them rendered gray by the morning dusk. This time there was no hare to chase, no aim to achieve, just the wind in the treetops.
Nor was there any aim for the thoughts that were running through his head. The kingdom, France, the fire in the mirrors, debauchery, champagne, death, Raito and Raito again.
The horse speeded on as though there was some invisible goal ahead after all, awaiting them in the distance, and L XV spurred him on and on, until everything turned into a blurred smear, penetrated by the first sunrays.
When Raito woke up, he immediately realized that something was wrong. The King wasn't by his side. Raito closed his eyes again and awaited the guards with resignation. Five, ten, twenty minutes passed. Then it turned into a half hour; still nothing happened.
Raito dressed up and left the royal chambers. Suddenly the bells started to ring.
Raito stopped for a moment in a middle of a hall and took a deep breath. He heard a sound of distant voices and ran in that direction.
When he passed through two or three deserted hallways, he finally saw a group of eight or nine people. All the women were weeping.
"What happened?" he asked repeatedly, but no one answered him. He ran away from them, until he saw Watari de Richelieu. He slowed down, so that he reached him in almost a languid pace. A horrible premonition seized him and turned his insides to ice.
"Raito," the Duke said in a moved voice, "the King is dead."
Raito's brain suddenly stopped working. Blind and deaf he wandered through the halls and corridors, colliding with people and things.
Finally the darkness disappeared. Raito blinked. He was in one of those spectacular halls where the yesterday's ball had taken place. The first minister d'Aiguillon stood apart from the others and everyone's eyes were set on him.
„The King is dead. Long live the King!" he cried, clapping his hands. In came the servants carrying silver trays with champagne.
Raito raised his glass.
L XV died falling off his horse 10 May 1774. The Bastille fell 14 July 1789. The Dauphin, later called L XVI, his Queen Marie-Antoinette and Raito Yagami, called Count du Barry, died under the guillotine during the year 1793.
FIN
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