Chapter 7. You Alone Can Make My Song Take Flight
Sleep seemed impossible for Louis. While he was physically exhausted from the day's work, his mind raced, dreaming up new designs and possibilities for his most precious project. The familiar urge to create caused his fingers to twitch. With a sigh he tossed back the coverlet and rose from his bed. Lighting a single candle, he strode barefoot down the corridor to the room that held all his designs. Immediately he immersed himself in what would become the greatest invention known to mankind.
A machine that would enable man to fly.
Louis traced the drawing with the tip of his finger. It was a simple device, really. A small furnace would heat up the surrounding air causing the fabric balloon to expand and rise, taking the furnace and attached basket with it. The only issue at the moment was figuring out the exact weight and size required of each item for a proper take off. He grinned. As soon as this mess with Philippe was over, he could work on his inventions uninterrupted. He flipped through the book some more, but found the designs could no longer hold his attention.
What would he do after Philippe was gone? Surely he wouldn't live under the palace anymore. Hélène had assured him on many occasions that the country estate he had purchased on a whim several years back was perfectly habitable, but he could hardly imagine himself living in a home surrounded by sunlight. And what of essentials like food and such? A normal man could go to the market himself, but Louis was not a normal man and relied on Hélène to bring him the things he needed. Of course, he could always ask Hélène and her daughter to come with him. He would have to stop using that flute on Aramina, though. It was fun when they were children, but now… Louis shook his head. He would not allow himself to dwell on such thoughts now. Wasn't he supposed to be working? He groaned and once more tried to focus on the designs.
This was going to be a long night.
...
Laughter echoed through the corridors.
Corinne danced back and forth, her blade slicing the air with practiced precision. Louis grinned. She had improved greatly since that first night. Of course, she was nowhere near as good as he, but her progress was quite pleasing. When the time came she would make a fine musketeer.
She lunged forward, her sword clashing with his own. Again Louis found himself immensely pleased with his protégé. She fought with such passion. It was a pity, however, that she did not pay close enough attention to her footing. Seconds later she was on the ground, chest heaving, blonde hair freed from its usual bun and cascading down her shoulders. Her blue eyes gazed intently into his.
The image before him changed and suddenly she was no longer on the ground, but sprawled across the sheets of his bed, dark eyes filled with desire, arms reaching out…
Louis rapidly shook his head and pulled Corinne to her feet.
"That will be all for tonight," he fought to keep his voice even. "You have to leave now."
"All right," she said, clearly confused but she did not argue. The moment she was out of sight, Louis ran.
He burst into his design room and tried to lose himself in the specifics of his flying machine. His hand flew across the paper, sketching the balloon he'd imagined hundreds of times. This isn't happening, he told himself. I'm dreaming. Any second now, I'll wake up. But he wasn't sleeping, he soon realized.
Louis groaned. How could I let this happen? I promised myself I wouldn't! He looked down on the paper in his trembling hands. In exact detail, Corinne smiled at him.
"NO!" He roared before ripping the drawing to shreds. "I can't be- I'm not-" He wrestled with the words, fighting until he had no strength left to deny them.
He was in love with Corinne D'Artagnan.
Looking back, he didn't know how he hadn't seen it. It was so painfully obvious that even Hélène had figured it out before him. Louis cursed. If his feelings truly were that obvious did Corinne know? Oh God. What if she knew? His heart beat so rapidly he thought it would burst from his chest at any moment. No, he reasoned. Corinne couldn't know. She wasn't observant enough, not like Hélène. And she would never know. This would be the secret he'd carry to his grave. It made his leaving all the more necessary. Philippe would be gone, Corinne would be a musketeer, and he would be, well, he would be gone too. Tucked safely away in the country, far from prying eyes and far from Corinne.
...
He can't deny it any longer! Now that Louis' realized his true feelings, how will he face Corinne? What if he does something stupid again? What do you think will happen?