The faint, white-yellow glow of candlelight seeped under the small gap underneath Victoria's quarters. She was normally asleep by now, but her current reading matter had her enthralled. Eyes not drinking in the text quickly enough, she licked a forefinger and hurriedly flipped to the next page. The story seemed to positively speak to her, encapturing her young questioning and innocence.
"To all the young maidens of the world, those not yet corrupted- fear not, for it seems that corruption is not merely a physical act. Far from it, my dear readers, as I am here to prove. Within your darling naivety and shameless curiosity, you may assume that the deflowering of maidens is the loss of their innocence. Nonsense! Corruption all starts in the mind, and here is an exquisite example of such occurrence…"
Victoria continued to read, eyes wide, ceasing only when she heard Michette stir. Michette was a rather precocious young laundry maid who also happened to share quarters with Victoria. Victoria had grown quite accustomed to Michette's usually noisy night-time frolics- sometimes with more than one man at a time.
Michette opened one eye and attempted to sit up.
"Oi…what you doing up so late, little miss?"
Victoria blushed and attempted to hide the parchments, fingers trembling.
"Oh, er, nothing Michette. Just a little read before I go to sl…"
Michette was far too quick for Victoria. She snatched the parchments out of her hand, raising an eyebrow in surprise. Victoria drew the bedsheet up to her chin, almost trying to make herself disappear. Michette let out a dirty giggle from her side of the bed at her discovery of Victoria's venture into such lascivious prose.
"My my…awful rude, this is, for a youngster like yourself- better suited to me, I s'pose!"
Michette sat up haughtily in the fashion of a pianist settling in front of their beloved instrument.
"Never before had Monsieur Loisel seen such a desirable form upon such a youngster- surely she could not have been of more than fifteen winters," Michette winked at Victoria, aware of the girl's similarity to such age, "but nonetheless, that did not stop him from appreciating her many talents, which included the most accommodating mouth…" Michette collapsed into giggles, throwing the parchments back at Victoria.
"Honestly, not another fan of the Marquis. His ego shall be swelling soon…as well another part of his body if you 'pay' him for his stories."
Embarrassment slowly fading, Victoria blew out the candle next to her and settled into bed, grabbing the parchments and placing them on the stone floor.
"What do you mean, paying for stories? You mean people give him money to write?"
Michette laughed at Victoria's naivety, lying back down onto the bed.
"Oh no no…much more physical payments. You know Maddie, don't you?"
Victoria nodded, wondering where this conversation was heading. Michette folded her arms over her chest and stared at the ceiling.
"Well, she used to always be in the Marquis' quarters- he's sweet on her- and sometimes I used to peep through the slot and see her paying 'im in kisses," Michette smirked, "and maybe a grope."
One of Victoria's hands flew up to cover her mouth, shocked by such revelations.
"Maddie? And the Marquis? My goodness…"
Michette jabbed Victoria in the shoulder, grinning playfully.
"Don't sound so shocked. I know you've been in there alone with him."
Victoria went to defend herself, but instead silently closed her mouth. It was true. Michette jovially tapped Victoria's face, smiling wickedly.
"He's gonna like you. You got this lovely fair hair…kind of…pure looking, ain't you? He'll like you then. He likes 'em young. Now I'm gonna get some sleep, and so should you."
Michette pulled the bedsheets up to her shoulders and burrowed under them. Victoria watched her for a moment, wondering how on Earth she knew about her and the Marquis. What was it that Madeline had told her? Ah yes, even the walls have eyes. Apparently she had been told that by some kind of doctor. It wouldn't surprise her. Taking one last wistful glance at the parchments that lay on the floor, Victoria closed her eyes.
The Marquis had slept exceptionally well that night, which was unusual for him. His overactive imagination all too often kept him awake, but at least he managed to purge his demons onto paper. Usually, when Abbe rapped on his door to wake him, he was sat at a desk, scrawling his latest vignette with worrying vigour. Not today, however. The hurried knock at his door roused him from his slumber. Sitting up in his bed, the Marquis scowled at the door. After a moment's silence, another knock.
"Honestly, Abbe, must you rap until your knuckles bleed?"
The Marquis strode over to the door and dramatically swung it open, grinning falsely at Abbe. He watched with a wicked delight as the younger man's eyes averted away from him, for he was clad only in his nightwear. He beckoned the priest in, shutting the door behind him.
"Come come Abbe, no need to be embarrassed. I'm sure this nothing here you haven't seen before…unless of course, your vows apply to yourself."
Abbe valiantly tried to ignore the Marquis' suggestion, but the desire to laugh tugged at the corner of his lips. The Marquis watched him closely, taking in every detail. Shame, such a virile man, full of endless potential, clad in such suffocating robes. Life was never fair. Sauntering over to his desk, his eyed the Abbe as he sat on the chaise lounge. He proved to be such a wondrous template for his story- him and Madeline both.
Pushing two glasses forward, the Marquis leant over the desk and reached for a bottle of red wine.
"Care for a little something to quench your thirst, Abbe?"
The Abbe smiled politely at Marquis, shaking his head.
"Not for me Marquis- this is going to be quite a fleeting visit."
The Abbe rose to his feet, straightening his cassock. The Marquis shrugged and poured himself a glass of wine, sucking his finger as he spilt a drop.
"Have you met the new chambermaid, Marquis?"
The Marquis' eyes brightened, a grin spreading across his face.
"Why yes, I have met our young Victoria. Comely little thing, isn't she?"
On the mention of the word 'comely,' Abbe threw a sharp look at Marquis, just imagining what was going on in that overactive imagination of his. He walked over to the desk, facing off opposite the Marquis, his palms flat on the table.
"Now, I don't want you saying- or doing- anything you shouldn't around her. She's the youngest here."
The Marquis sipped at his wine, raising a quizzical eyebrow. Licking his lips, he set down his glass and drummed his fingers on the table. The Abbe gazed at his hand, noticing the extra ring upon it.
"Where did you get that ring?"
"Strangely enough, Cherub, our darling Victoria brought me this in the quiet of last night. Quite a gem, isn't she?"
The smirk upon the Marquis' lips angered Abbe somewhat. Hopefully he wouldn't sink his fangs into someone quite so naïve as Victoria.
"I'll have to inform her of the visiting rules before long. I'll excuse her this time."
*I would have flogged her sorry arse myself*
"You do that, pumpkin. Until then I promise that I'll stay well away."
The Marquis smiled sweetly and sat in his chair behind the desk, eyes glittering. He could still detect some sort of underlying disbelief in Abbe's face. He held his hands up as if surrendering.
"Abbe, do you really think of capable of anything really that bad?"
Umpteen nuances trailed behind his voice, and Abbe could pick up on virtually every one.
"Until then- no visitors."
The Abbe smiled cordially and walked out of the Marquis' room. Shaking his head, the Marquis pulled out his work in progress and jotted down a couple more sentences. Quite dramatic, this one.
*The Abbe of such asylum was a rather stiff man, rigid in his beliefs and also his body. He had a somewhat roving eye for the young lasses that wandered the corridors, aching for their physical downfall. And it was amazing, dear reader, how often he resisted such temptations, for ne'er before had such bountiful formations graced his presence.*
"Marquis…"
The Marquis jumped, startled by the sudden intrusion. However, he smothered his momentary slip in composure and grinned at Victoria, complete with flushed cheeks and parchments in hand.
"Good morning, coquette. Enjoy your read last night?"
Victoria nodded eagerly, stray strands of blonde hair falling in front of her eyes. Settling on the padded chair near the Marquis, she placed the parchments on his desk and laughed quietly to herself. The Marquis turned slowly to face her, silently observing every inch of her form.
"Very much. I learnt quite a lot."
In one sudden movement, the Marquis lifted her chin and looked into her eyes.
"Ah yes, I can tell. Quite the enlightened one, aren't you?"
He brushed the hair out of her eyes and tapped her cheek lightly.
"There you go. Looking as virginal as ever, my dear."
"Marquis! What are you doing?"
The Marquis slowly raised his eyes to meet Madeline's, which was a direct contrast to Victoria's panicked rush to her feet. In her embarrassment, Victoria dashed out of the door, which was much to de Sade's chagrin.
"Now look what you made her do."
The Marquis punctuated his sentence with a pointed smile.
"I was merely repaying her for a gift."
Waggling his finger in front of Madeline, Marquis watched as slight surprise crossed her face. She leant forward to have a closer look, and the Marquis teasingly withdrew his hand.
"Tsk tsk, coquette, don't be so eager."
Madeline smiled wryly.
"Well I'm not paying you to have a look."
Turning on her heel, Madeline sauntered out of the quarters, fortunately not catching the scowl that contorted de Sade's features. He hadn't been 'paid' for his stories for a long time, and he was missing it- dearly. But of course, he saw a lot of potential in Victoria- her eagerness to read was far stronger than Madeline's had been at such an early stage in Charenton.
Outside, in the cool corridor, Victoria was tagging after Abbe.
"I'm sorry, Abbe, I didn't know that I wasn't supposed to be in there…"
The Abbe stopped and placed a paternal hand on Victoria's shoulder, stopping her in her tracks.
"You weren't to know- that's more my fault than yours. But you have to be careful with the Marquis."
"Why is that?"
The Abbe searched his mind for some more choice adjectives than the ones that might just spring to mind.
"He can be quite…outlandish at times, Victoria. He's not the best company for one such as yourself to keep."
As she watched Abbe walk away from her, she couldn't help but think of how intoxicating this all sounded. What could be so bad about the Marquis?
"To all the young maidens of the world, those not yet corrupted- fear not, for it seems that corruption is not merely a physical act. Far from it, my dear readers, as I am here to prove. Within your darling naivety and shameless curiosity, you may assume that the deflowering of maidens is the loss of their innocence. Nonsense! Corruption all starts in the mind, and here is an exquisite example of such occurrence…"
Victoria continued to read, eyes wide, ceasing only when she heard Michette stir. Michette was a rather precocious young laundry maid who also happened to share quarters with Victoria. Victoria had grown quite accustomed to Michette's usually noisy night-time frolics- sometimes with more than one man at a time.
Michette opened one eye and attempted to sit up.
"Oi…what you doing up so late, little miss?"
Victoria blushed and attempted to hide the parchments, fingers trembling.
"Oh, er, nothing Michette. Just a little read before I go to sl…"
Michette was far too quick for Victoria. She snatched the parchments out of her hand, raising an eyebrow in surprise. Victoria drew the bedsheet up to her chin, almost trying to make herself disappear. Michette let out a dirty giggle from her side of the bed at her discovery of Victoria's venture into such lascivious prose.
"My my…awful rude, this is, for a youngster like yourself- better suited to me, I s'pose!"
Michette sat up haughtily in the fashion of a pianist settling in front of their beloved instrument.
"Never before had Monsieur Loisel seen such a desirable form upon such a youngster- surely she could not have been of more than fifteen winters," Michette winked at Victoria, aware of the girl's similarity to such age, "but nonetheless, that did not stop him from appreciating her many talents, which included the most accommodating mouth…" Michette collapsed into giggles, throwing the parchments back at Victoria.
"Honestly, not another fan of the Marquis. His ego shall be swelling soon…as well another part of his body if you 'pay' him for his stories."
Embarrassment slowly fading, Victoria blew out the candle next to her and settled into bed, grabbing the parchments and placing them on the stone floor.
"What do you mean, paying for stories? You mean people give him money to write?"
Michette laughed at Victoria's naivety, lying back down onto the bed.
"Oh no no…much more physical payments. You know Maddie, don't you?"
Victoria nodded, wondering where this conversation was heading. Michette folded her arms over her chest and stared at the ceiling.
"Well, she used to always be in the Marquis' quarters- he's sweet on her- and sometimes I used to peep through the slot and see her paying 'im in kisses," Michette smirked, "and maybe a grope."
One of Victoria's hands flew up to cover her mouth, shocked by such revelations.
"Maddie? And the Marquis? My goodness…"
Michette jabbed Victoria in the shoulder, grinning playfully.
"Don't sound so shocked. I know you've been in there alone with him."
Victoria went to defend herself, but instead silently closed her mouth. It was true. Michette jovially tapped Victoria's face, smiling wickedly.
"He's gonna like you. You got this lovely fair hair…kind of…pure looking, ain't you? He'll like you then. He likes 'em young. Now I'm gonna get some sleep, and so should you."
Michette pulled the bedsheets up to her shoulders and burrowed under them. Victoria watched her for a moment, wondering how on Earth she knew about her and the Marquis. What was it that Madeline had told her? Ah yes, even the walls have eyes. Apparently she had been told that by some kind of doctor. It wouldn't surprise her. Taking one last wistful glance at the parchments that lay on the floor, Victoria closed her eyes.
The Marquis had slept exceptionally well that night, which was unusual for him. His overactive imagination all too often kept him awake, but at least he managed to purge his demons onto paper. Usually, when Abbe rapped on his door to wake him, he was sat at a desk, scrawling his latest vignette with worrying vigour. Not today, however. The hurried knock at his door roused him from his slumber. Sitting up in his bed, the Marquis scowled at the door. After a moment's silence, another knock.
"Honestly, Abbe, must you rap until your knuckles bleed?"
The Marquis strode over to the door and dramatically swung it open, grinning falsely at Abbe. He watched with a wicked delight as the younger man's eyes averted away from him, for he was clad only in his nightwear. He beckoned the priest in, shutting the door behind him.
"Come come Abbe, no need to be embarrassed. I'm sure this nothing here you haven't seen before…unless of course, your vows apply to yourself."
Abbe valiantly tried to ignore the Marquis' suggestion, but the desire to laugh tugged at the corner of his lips. The Marquis watched him closely, taking in every detail. Shame, such a virile man, full of endless potential, clad in such suffocating robes. Life was never fair. Sauntering over to his desk, his eyed the Abbe as he sat on the chaise lounge. He proved to be such a wondrous template for his story- him and Madeline both.
Pushing two glasses forward, the Marquis leant over the desk and reached for a bottle of red wine.
"Care for a little something to quench your thirst, Abbe?"
The Abbe smiled politely at Marquis, shaking his head.
"Not for me Marquis- this is going to be quite a fleeting visit."
The Abbe rose to his feet, straightening his cassock. The Marquis shrugged and poured himself a glass of wine, sucking his finger as he spilt a drop.
"Have you met the new chambermaid, Marquis?"
The Marquis' eyes brightened, a grin spreading across his face.
"Why yes, I have met our young Victoria. Comely little thing, isn't she?"
On the mention of the word 'comely,' Abbe threw a sharp look at Marquis, just imagining what was going on in that overactive imagination of his. He walked over to the desk, facing off opposite the Marquis, his palms flat on the table.
"Now, I don't want you saying- or doing- anything you shouldn't around her. She's the youngest here."
The Marquis sipped at his wine, raising a quizzical eyebrow. Licking his lips, he set down his glass and drummed his fingers on the table. The Abbe gazed at his hand, noticing the extra ring upon it.
"Where did you get that ring?"
"Strangely enough, Cherub, our darling Victoria brought me this in the quiet of last night. Quite a gem, isn't she?"
The smirk upon the Marquis' lips angered Abbe somewhat. Hopefully he wouldn't sink his fangs into someone quite so naïve as Victoria.
"I'll have to inform her of the visiting rules before long. I'll excuse her this time."
*I would have flogged her sorry arse myself*
"You do that, pumpkin. Until then I promise that I'll stay well away."
The Marquis smiled sweetly and sat in his chair behind the desk, eyes glittering. He could still detect some sort of underlying disbelief in Abbe's face. He held his hands up as if surrendering.
"Abbe, do you really think of capable of anything really that bad?"
Umpteen nuances trailed behind his voice, and Abbe could pick up on virtually every one.
"Until then- no visitors."
The Abbe smiled cordially and walked out of the Marquis' room. Shaking his head, the Marquis pulled out his work in progress and jotted down a couple more sentences. Quite dramatic, this one.
*The Abbe of such asylum was a rather stiff man, rigid in his beliefs and also his body. He had a somewhat roving eye for the young lasses that wandered the corridors, aching for their physical downfall. And it was amazing, dear reader, how often he resisted such temptations, for ne'er before had such bountiful formations graced his presence.*
"Marquis…"
The Marquis jumped, startled by the sudden intrusion. However, he smothered his momentary slip in composure and grinned at Victoria, complete with flushed cheeks and parchments in hand.
"Good morning, coquette. Enjoy your read last night?"
Victoria nodded eagerly, stray strands of blonde hair falling in front of her eyes. Settling on the padded chair near the Marquis, she placed the parchments on his desk and laughed quietly to herself. The Marquis turned slowly to face her, silently observing every inch of her form.
"Very much. I learnt quite a lot."
In one sudden movement, the Marquis lifted her chin and looked into her eyes.
"Ah yes, I can tell. Quite the enlightened one, aren't you?"
He brushed the hair out of her eyes and tapped her cheek lightly.
"There you go. Looking as virginal as ever, my dear."
"Marquis! What are you doing?"
The Marquis slowly raised his eyes to meet Madeline's, which was a direct contrast to Victoria's panicked rush to her feet. In her embarrassment, Victoria dashed out of the door, which was much to de Sade's chagrin.
"Now look what you made her do."
The Marquis punctuated his sentence with a pointed smile.
"I was merely repaying her for a gift."
Waggling his finger in front of Madeline, Marquis watched as slight surprise crossed her face. She leant forward to have a closer look, and the Marquis teasingly withdrew his hand.
"Tsk tsk, coquette, don't be so eager."
Madeline smiled wryly.
"Well I'm not paying you to have a look."
Turning on her heel, Madeline sauntered out of the quarters, fortunately not catching the scowl that contorted de Sade's features. He hadn't been 'paid' for his stories for a long time, and he was missing it- dearly. But of course, he saw a lot of potential in Victoria- her eagerness to read was far stronger than Madeline's had been at such an early stage in Charenton.
Outside, in the cool corridor, Victoria was tagging after Abbe.
"I'm sorry, Abbe, I didn't know that I wasn't supposed to be in there…"
The Abbe stopped and placed a paternal hand on Victoria's shoulder, stopping her in her tracks.
"You weren't to know- that's more my fault than yours. But you have to be careful with the Marquis."
"Why is that?"
The Abbe searched his mind for some more choice adjectives than the ones that might just spring to mind.
"He can be quite…outlandish at times, Victoria. He's not the best company for one such as yourself to keep."
As she watched Abbe walk away from her, she couldn't help but think of how intoxicating this all sounded. What could be so bad about the Marquis?