Chapter 6
The sweet smell… Oh yes, the sweet smell. The sweet smell of orange blossom entered the nostrils of Louis XIV. His eyes cracked open to a golden light.
"Bonjour, votre majesté." It was the voice of Alexandre Bontemps, valet du roi.
Louis head was still in a bit of a fog. "Bontemps, request the attendance of my brother at once."
"Straight away, votre majesté."
The events of the previous evening were slowly filling his mind as the fog lifted and his vision came in to focus. What a nightmare, he thought. What a most peculiar dream. Why just think! Fouquet coming back to strike his revenge on me! HA! It would never happen. And certainly not that horrible fat lump playing my role as king… urgh! How did my mind invent such a horrible tale. What did I drink before bed last night!? Surely not some of Montespan's toad shit, I do hope, he added to himself cringing.
"You called, mon frere?" queried a confused Philippe striding in to the royal bedchamber.
"Just seeing that you are well, my dear brother!" replied Louis.
Philippe, particularly amused, retorted, "Since *when* does the king simply call his brother to check on his health? Is everything alright, your majesty?"
"Wonderful. Just wonderful", Louis smiled.
It was not until later in the day that Louis's concern suddenly heightened. Versailles seemed a bit bigger than it always did. And the silver furniture, didn't Colbert say they couldn't afford most of it? Since when has there been so much?
Strolling through the gardens in the afternoon, Louis's suspicion grew further. Had the Grand Canal always been lined with orange trees? Surely, the fountains hadn't before sprayed spouts of water the height of 15 men!? And the massive statue of himself on horseback, it looked eerily like the one in his dream, only bigger (though the horse smaller).
Well, I suppose that could be where my dream got its inspiration…
Louis stopped. Suppose the dream were- reality!? No, certainly not. Not possible! Louis had an idea.
Well, I suppose there is one way to find out! "Fetch me Huygens."
"I'm sorry, your majesty?"
"Huygens. *My scientist.*"
"I'm sorry sire, but I don't know who you are referring to."
Louis was bewildered.
"CHRISTIAAN HUYGENS. I know you have seen him visit me on a number of occasions!"
Bontemps simply stared at the king as if he had lost his mind.
In a panic, Louis turned to his brother. "Philippe, surely you know who I refer to. I *know* you crush on him. Curly auburn locks; have any idea?"
"No mon frere, but if you find him, send him my way… he sounds like a hottie!" Philippe replied teasingly.
Was Huygens all a figure of his imagination? Impossible! Surely he had memories of Huygens from outside the dream. Huygens. His dear friend. Where was he? *My God.* Reality was beginning to dawn on Louis. It wasn't a dream.. . Huygens,- Fouquet,- Louis felt a searing pain through his chest solely from his realisation. He stumbled, clenching himself.
- I HAVE TO GO BACK
Bontemps and Philippe exchanged concerned glances as Louis breathed in deeply, then closed his eyes and attempted to open the box. When the seal did not budge, he frowned, and after a few moments he opened his eyes and glared at the object with great detestation.
"Damn this contemptible thing!"
Now deeply perplexed, Philippe approached his brother and gingerly asked, "Mon frere, is there something you'd like to explain to me?"
Sighing, Louis nodded. "Yes, I suppose I probably should. But," he looked over his shoulder at Bontemps, who was still watching his sovereign with a level of unprecedented concern, "not in mixed company. If things don't work out, I only need one person to think I'm mental, and it may as we be my own brother."
Sitting under the shade of one of the many orange trees constructed by Louis' over eager imagination, Philippe was struggling to digest the impossible tale he had just heard from his brother.
"So, let me see if I understand you correctly. Fouquet, your old minister, got a magic snuff box from Robert Hooke which he used to alter time and space to terrorise you and to eventually take your place as king? But then," he paused, fighting back a smile at the absurdity of it all, "this...Huygens person and I...saved you? And now Versailles is greater than it ever was, but your friend has somehow vanished and you have to go back to this alternate dimension to save him and you want my help?"
Louis looked out onto the glittering canal, his almond eyes squinting in the sun that now seemed brighter than ever.
"Yes. I know it seems completely mental. I didn't believe it myself until I realised he was gone. Even though I am the king and you should obey me, you are also my brother and I don't want to put you at risk."
When Philippe did not respond, Louis turned to face him, and found his brother looking very pensively at the ribbons on his sleeves.
"Philippe, what are you doing? Did you hear anything I just said?"
"Oh, I was just wondering what the weather was like in England this time of year." Louis could, in that moment, strangle his brother.
"And why..." He said slowly, trying to keep an even temper, "would that be a matter of concern to you?"
Philippe grinned, showing Louis his less-than-perfect teeth, "Because, mon frere, that's where Hooke is! If anyone can open the box, surely he can! Drop Charles a message: we're going to London!"