AN. Bonjour, I usually like to double-check my French before submitting, but I'm an impatient wench and I couldn't wait. Apologies to M.L. Zhang because you are so generous.
Now, time for a bit of history... I'm mixing in people who actually existed with fantasy characters much the same way that the film did. One person, who existed in history, (and who hated Henri II and Diane de Poitiers) was Anne d'Heilly! Believe me, she makes Marguerite and the Baroness look like teeny, cute kittens. She was Francis I's "official Mistress. This was an actual respected position in the French Court. Although she was by no means the only woman (other than the Queen) to share Francis' bed, she was a gold digger of the highest order, and Francis pretty much gave her anything she wanted. The only thing she couldn't do was make policy. (Which was a very good thing). She very nearly put Francis' youngest son Charles in a position to be able to take the crown from Henri (with Francis' full support) after Francis died. Charles however, was too stupid to appreciate the fact that if you roll around in a corpse's sheets you will get sick and die as well.
Anne will now be introduced for nefarious going's on. Oh, and the motto bestowed upon her in this story was her actual motto. Two things Anne wasn't was stupid or ugly.
Another person who did exist was Chancellor Duprat. Another of Henri's hated people and an ally of Anne d'Heilly.
As you can see I'm copying scriptures from an old King James version I have. It's the wrong century and it's unlikely Henri would have quoted anything other than Latin (although he owned a French Bible gifted to him from his aunt) but I have to use what's available. The all CAPS portions is how the text is written, and I don't want to mess with it. Although I find it silly to print it like that. I just want you to know Henri isn't screaming.
Translations:
dans le secret: in the secret.
Monsieur le Grand Maitre: My Lord the Grand Master.
Monsieur: My Lord.
mon Dauphin: My Crown Prince.
Monsieur le petite-Dauphin: My Lord, the little Dauphin.
Monsieur le Dauphin: My Lord the Crown Prince.
La Bonne Reine: The Good Queen.
Ma bein-aimee Reine: My beloved Queen.
ma Cherie enfant: My dear child.
Fille de France: Daughter of France.
Henri paced in the large anteroom, which had now filled up with courtiers and ministers eager for a word with the King. The Grand Master eyed several of the intruders with his sharp glare. His hatred flared every time his eyes settled on Duprat, the Chancellor and Chief Secretary to the King, who answered with his own burning glare. "It's not like the King to speak to Her Majesty, dans le secret. What say you, Monsieur le Grand Maître?" Duprat questioned.
Henri, knowing the rivalry that festered between the two men and loathing Duprat above all the other men at court, decided to end this round before it began. "To speculate on the reason for a husband and wife's private audience is indecorous. To speculate on a private conversation between the King and the Queen of France, could be considered treasonous, Monsieur," he warned. His dark blue eyes glittering dangerously in the late afternoon light.
Duprat immediately bowed. "My apologies, mon Dauphin. I meant no disrespect."
Henri ignored the apology and stood in the farthest corner from the group. He crossed his arms over his chest, and closed his eyes, resting his head on the paneled wall. His thoughts turned to his precious Danielle in an effort to distract himself from the sounds and smells of the people surrounding him. Those who did wash regularly doused themselves with stinking cosmetics and tonics of vanity. Those who did not, wreaked of filth and expensive scents. How he wanted to be back at the river with Leonardo and his bride. He contented himself by filling his mind with images of her sleeping on fine linen sheets, scented with lavender in his Grandmother's apartments. Soon he would be where he belonged, wrapped safely in her arms.
His peaceful thoughts were shattered by the entrance of his father's mistress, the beautiful, and vicious Anne d'Heilly. "Monsieur le petite-Dauphin," she purred. "Restlessness is always a challenge for a young man of your age, but your constant disappearing has put a great strain on His Majesty. You'd to well to remember the Commandment, 'Honor thy father.' For if a Prince cannot follow the Commandments, how can he command the obedience and honor from the people he rules when he becomes king?"
The room hushed, its occupants shocked by the 'Favorite's' audacity to speak to the Dauphin of France in such a manner. The Grand Master charged forward, eager to put the upstart back in her place, but Henri raised his hand to stop him. Slowly he approached the siren whose beauty and vitriol spread chaos and poison in the court of France. "Madame, you use of logic astounds me," he spoke softly with a tone of awe in his words. "Truly, the motto His Majesty bestowed upon you is amazing."
Anne gazed at the young Dauphin through wary eyes. She'd endured his insults since his return from Spain, and stoked the antagonism of the King against his son in return. This apparent compliment shocked her to the core, but she couldn't afford to pass up an opportunity to mend fences with him. Her rouged lips turned up in an angelic, inviting smile. "His Majesty proclaiming me, 'The most beauteous of the learned, and the most learned of the beauteous,' is the greatest honor he could ever give me, Your Highness. Every day, I strive to live up to it."
Henri returned the smile and let his gaze move from her head to her toes, lingering so she would feel his attention. Inside his stomach twisted with revulsion. Her white-blond hair, curled, teased, and braided in the latest fashions, with the jewels his father showered upon her woven within the soft tresses. Her pale skin made even whiter by thin layers of cosmetics, the spots of rouge to make her cheeks flush like a maiden's unused to the stares of men. Her flashing blue eyes, so cold and haughty, filled with an ocean of greed and envy. Her perfectly shaped small mouth with plump lips, colored so red they looked coated in fresh blood from a kill. Her body called to mind Botticelli's Birth of Venus, with firm, high breasts, a slender waist, generous hips, and long elegant legs, hidden under her bright silk skirts. How he loathed her, this deadly harpy clothed in the garb of a lovely swan.
"A better motto couldn't have been devised by any man less brilliant than our King," he flattered, the words tasting like bile on his tongue. "That is why I ask you for the answer to a problem which puzzles me exceedingly," he continued, furrowing his brow as if in deep confusion.
"I am always at your service, My Lord. For the whole world knows I serve my country with all of my very being," she answered, with her eyes demurely lowered.
Henri allowed himself to grin. "Indeed it does, Madame. My quandary is this… As you rightly said, a person who does follow the Commandments cannot expect loyalty and honor from those they rule. However, I ask you, how can a woman who violates the Commandments, 'Thou shalt not commit adultery.' And 'Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's house, thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife, nor his manservant, nor his maidservant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor any thing that is thy neighbor's.' Possibly be worthy of a place of loyalty, obedience, or honor in the King's house? You condemn me, your Dauphin for breaking the Commandments. However, Madame, although my relationship with the King is far from affectionate, I honor my fellow men. For as our Lord Christ commanded us, 'THOU SHALT LOVE THE LORD THY GOD WITH ALL THY HEART, AND WITH ALL THY SOUL, AND WITH ALL THY MIND. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, THOU SHALT LOVE THY NEIGHBOR AS THYSELF.' These Commandments are the pillars on which our Savior based the true faith, Madame. Without these two, all others are meaningless."
Just as the last word fell from his lips the enormity of his 'question' and his bold rebuke fell upon Anne like the executioner's sword. The small crowd surrounding them stood in breathless anticipation. Never before had anyone dared to insult the King's Favorite with such damning words. Anne stood white with fury, clenching her tiny delicate hands into fists. "Monsieur le Dauphin, I have no answer for you," she replied. Her face a picture of deep remorse for her inability to give what the Prince had requested. Inside she seethed, 'Just you wait you horrid boy. You think that because your father conceded to let you choose a bride, you are powerful enough to call me a whore. We shall see if this angel of yours can survive in a hell of my making.'
A huge smile bloomed on the young man's face. "Madame, I expected no answer from you."
Just as Anne opened her mouth to respond to his provocation, the Queen entered and all in the room paid her homage. "Henri, we must attend to our pressing business now," she insisted, approaching her son.
"Of course, Mother," he agreed. His glee at having bested his father's chief harlot shining in his eyes.
The Queen turned to her husband's most cherished of companions, and took the girl's hand in her own. "My dear Anne, our King has had many surprises over these last few weeks. Please, ease his burdens in the way only you can."
Anne felt no love or affection for the Queen, but she gracefully curtsied and bowed low with genuine respect for France's beloved La Bonne Reine. "I shall do my utmost Madame."
Marie smiled and patted the girl's cheek. "I know you will. Now, go to him and bring him cheer."
After Anne received the King's permission to enter the throne room the atmosphere returned to a state of calm. "Shall we go, Mother?" Henri asked.
"One moment, my son." She turned to the Grand Master. "Monsieur, I wish to see you in my apartments within the next hour."
The older man bowed. "Of course, Your Majesty."
"Now, Henri, we shall go," the Queen commanded, taking his strong arm.
As mother and son walked through the glittering halls of the palace, Henri sighed in frustration. "I can't understand how you tolerate that harlot!" he exclaimed.
The Queen patted his arm soothingly. "Hush, she gives your father comfort and good cheer. She is perhaps more materially motivated than some of your father's other companions, but there is no reason to worry yet. In any case, even if Anne were not here there would be someone else. Remember this well, My Son, when a court is at war it is the people who suffer. With the court at peace, your father can attend to the country instead of using all his power to control the nobles."
Henri nodded, and held his mother closer to him. "I hate to see you so ill-used," he murmured.
"My child, I know you're full of righteous indignation for me. You are, as your father often says, 'my son,' but trust me when I say that your father truly does love me," Marie begged.
"Then his love is an evil love," Henri retorted with disgust.
"No!" Marie snapped. "He loves me deeply. He depends on me in ways you cannot see. You are confusing a lack of passion for a lack of love. My son, some men cannot live without the fire of lust. Your father is such a man, without the fires of passion burning in his blood, he cannot function. I have known your father from my first years, and I have always known that I would never spark that fire he so needs, nor would any one women be able to keep it burning. However, when he is afraid, grieving, when the burden of being 'The Knight King of France' gets too heavy for him, with me he can just be Francis. I am the only person in his life that he trusts completely. When you are King, you will understand what that means."
Henri felt his eyes burn at his mother's passionate defense of the father he could neither trust nor forgive. Lust, he'd known it, and yet it never failed to leave him feeling hollow and dirty until he'd known Danielle. Danielle hadn't only set his blood and body ablaze with desire, she'd ignited his heart, his mind, and his imagination. She had awakened him from his self-imposed sleep of apathy, reigniting his dreams of a strong, united France with a happy, prosperous, healthy population. A nation that could become the envy of the entire world through education, and all her people working together to make her glorious. Dreams he'd thought died in the fortresses of Spain where he and his brother languished dishonored and abused as payment for their father's broken promises. He'd shut himself off from people after that. Then came Danielle, who wouldn't accept his façade of a flippant, rebellious man of privilege. She'd uncovered his true self, freeing him from his own mental and emotional prison. He couldn't imagine wanting a woman other than her for anything.
"Mother, you deserve more," he insisted.
Marie smiled gently as they approached the King's Mother's former apartments. "I am content, Henri. Now, you must introduce me to your wife."
Henri smiled, holding the door open for his mother. Laurant immediately rose to bow and greet them. "Your Majesty, Your Highness, you'll be happy to know everything is proceeding wonderfully."
"Oh how wonderful," Marie sighed. "I'll go into the bedchamber and talk with Helene, you both stay out here for now. Henri, it just wouldn't be proper for you to enter her bedchamber before the marriage."
Henri couldn't resist rolling his eyes, but refused to give a reason for one word to be uttered against Danielle's reputation. "Of course, mother, but please tell her I'm here."
"I will," Marie assured.
Marie entered the bedchamber startled to see Helene, and two young women already dipped low to the floors in curtsies. Helene rose first and approached her with a beautiful smile, her black eyes sparkling with joy. "Ma bien-aimée Reine, our Lord and Savior has blessed France with two of the most virtuous maidens I have ever known. May I present Mademoiselle Danielle de Barbarac, and Mademoiselle Jaqueline de Ghent?"
The Queen reached out to the young girl wrapped in a fur-lined, crimson velvet dressing gown with her head bowed low. "Now, ma cherie enfant, you should be in bed." Raising Danielle by her shoulders, Marie wrapped her up in an embrace. As her hands touched Danielle's back, the nervous girl gasped and pulled away. "What is it, Danielle?" Marie cried out in concern.
Danielle sank to her knees with fear. "Forgive me, Your Majesty," she pleaded, trembling while trying to control her tears.
"Your Majesty," the soft, gentle voice of Jaqueline called out. The Queen turned and motioned to the unfamiliar girl to come forward. Jaqueline rose and helped Danielle to her feet. "My sister was lashed by my mother the day before the masque, and then sold to Pierre le Pieu, who put her in irons for trying to run away. She is very sore after her bath, and that's why she pulled away."
The horror of the child's words struck the Queen like lightning. "Come, my dear, into bed with you this moment!" she ordered, gently depositing her great-grandniece back into the soft bed herself. "Helene, send for Doctor Fernel and tell him to be prepared to stay as long as he's needed."
"Right away, Your Majesty," Helene replied, and immediately sent for a Page.
"Please, it really isn't necessary," Danielle pleaded. "I shall be completely well in a few days."
Marie sat on the green velvet coverlet and stroked her soon to be daughter-in-law's hair. "My child, it is very necessary I assure you. I want you to understand this right now. From this moment forward, no matter what may happen, you are safe, and not a single hair on your head will be put out of place without retribution. You are a Fille de France, anyone who lifts a finger against you is guilty of treason!"
Jaqueline let out a gasp of terror, and Danielle immediately reached for her hand. "It will be all right Jaqueline, I swear it on my father's grave."
"The law is the law Danielle," Jaqueline answered.
Marie realized that in her haste to meet the young woman who shared her blood and who owned her son's heart, she'd entirely ignored the younger girl who looked so pale and afraid. "Child, forgive me," begged the Queen. "In my haste to care for Danielle, I have been unpardonably rude to you."
"Not at all, Your Majesty," Jaqueline stammered, unused to anyone apologizing to her for anything other than Danielle. The idea of the Queen of France apologizing to her of all people frightened her more than her mother and sister being convicted of treason. "I'm only sorry I couldn't stop my mother and my sister from doing this to Danielle."
The Queen smiled tenderly at the two girls. "It seems that I cannot rely on anyone to tell me this story in any sort of order!" she laughed, trying to alleviate the tension of the young women. "Why don't you both start at the beginning and then we will move on from there. However, I should mention that Henri is in the sitting room with dear Marc, before I forget. So much has happened today, that my mind is leaping around like a baby frog."
Danielle and Jaqueline carefully told their story to the Queen, omitting nothing, but emphasizing being each other's comfort over the last ten years. "So you see, Your Majesty, this is how we have gotten to this point. I realize that a Prince loving and marrying a commoner is unthinkable, but I swear to you I will give my entire being up for the good of France. I will do anything for Henri to make him happy and help him achieve the greatness inside of him."
Marie took both girls carefully in her arms and kissed them. "My children, I promise you both you will never have to suffer again. I won't allow it!"