DAY 2
They lay under the sheets, undressed, entwined in a comfortable embrace, savoring the lazy morning. John, relaxed and content, enjoyed a Cuban cigar, the rich aroma mingling with the morning air. Marguerite, nestled with her head on his chest, didn't mind the smoke. She knew that these days, John smoked only occasionally, indulging in the pleasure it brought him on special moments like this.
"Tell me a story," Marguerite requested, her voice soft and content, eager to hear his voice.
John's voice took on a playful tone as he began his story. "Well... once upon a time… There was a beautiful princess… Who was sitting in her castle… When a frog jumped onto her shoulder. 'Kiss me,' said the frog."
Marguerite looked up at him with an amused and enamored expression, her eyes sparkling with delight.
John continued. "And when the princess kissed the frog, he turned into a handsome young prince... Well, maybe not so young," he added with a chuckle, "but a prince, nonetheless."
Marguerite's laughter, filled with affection, echoed in the room, blending with the serene atmosphere of the morning.
She leaned over John to glance at the clock on the bedside table, noting the time.
"We should be getting up," she suggested.
John, with a hint of playful reluctance in his tone, responded, "I thought we might spend the day in bed."
"Tempting," Marguerite replied, her voice laced with amusement. "But Paris waits for no one, not even for us. There's still so much of the city to explore. Also, we're going to the theater tonight, and I want to do a little shopping beforehand."
John's expression softened as he listened to Marguerite's plans. While these activities weren't exactly his ideal idea of fun, the joy they brought to Marguerite made them worthwhile for him. He found a certain satisfaction in fulfilling her wishes.
After their morning in the hotel, Marguerite and John decided to forgo a formal breakfast in the restaurant. Instead, they chose a more simple and spontaneous option. They picked up fresh, buttery croissants from a nearby boulangerie, the aroma and warmth of the pastries adding to the charm of their morning.
With their breakfast in hand, they found a quaint bench by the river. Sitting there, with the Seine flowing gently in front of them, they enjoyed their croissants.
John took a moment to appreciate the scene around them. "This is kind of nice," he remarked, a contented smile on his face. "I enjoy sweet, simple moments like this."
"Me, too," she agreed, her voice carrying a note of contentment. "This crème de pistache is divine."
John, curious about their evening plans, inquired, "What's on the agenda for tonight?"
"We're going to see Stravinsky's 'The Rite of Spring '." Marguerite replied with a satisfied tone. "Have you seen it before?"
John shook his head. "I haven't, but I've certainly heard of it. I know it's quite the boundary-pushing piece."
Marguerite nodded, her voice tinged with excitement. "I was actually there at the premiere in 1913. It was scandalous at the time. The critics despised it. I loved it, of course. It was modern, progressive, and avant-garde. It took a decade for it to be recognized as the masterpiece it truly is."
John couldn't help but feel impressed by Marguerite's keen awareness and appreciation of both cultural and popular trends. It was a trait he had always admired in her. Marguerite's ability to navigate effortlessly through discussions of sophisticated opera performances as well as the latest happenings in popular culture was a testament to her versatility and intellectual curiosity.
After their leisurely breakfast by the Seine, they decided to spend part of their day exploring the fashion heart of Paris. They made their way to the Chanel boutique. Upon entering, they were greeted by the subtle fragrance of Chanel No. 5 and an array of exquisite clothing and accessories. Every detail, from the decor to the arrangement of the items, reflected Chanel's impeccable taste. Marguerite was drawn to the elegant display of dresses, each piece a work of art. She carefully selected a few to try on. John observed the transformation with each outfit, seeing how the classic Chanel designs complemented her beauty and style.
Marguerite turned to John with a mischievous glint. "I already have a few elegant outfits for ballet and the opera. Now I want something bold and daring for the Moulin Rouge."
Her words hinted at the desire for an outfit that matched the vibrant and risqué atmosphere of the famous cabaret. John's understanding smile showed his eagerness to see what daring choice she would make.
Marguerite stepped into the stunning blue dress she had selected. The fabric felt smooth against her skin, and as she zipped up the side, the dress hugged her figure perfectly. She turned to face the full-length mirror, taking in the sight. The dress was both daring and elegant, a perfect representation of the vibrant spirit of the Moulin Rouge.
Marguerite, gazing at her reflection, turned to John. "Do you like it?" she asked.
John, unable to hide his admiration, replied, "I love it. You look stunning."
"You don't think it's too…"
John shook his head, "No, it's perfect. I love seeing you in it, and I'll also love getting you out of it."
Marguerite, her cheeks coloring slightly, chuckled. "John, we're in public."
John grinned, "Speaking English in the heart of Paris."
As the boutique staff carefully packaged Marguerite's selections, she turned to the cashier and asked in French. "Excusez-moi, do you know if it's possible to find Coco anywhere in the city?"
The cashier, with a hint of excitement in her voice, replied, "You're in luck, madame. She is right here."
Just then, Coco Chanel herself emerged from the back of the boutique, her presence commanding yet graceful. Marguerite's eyes widened in surprise and admiration.
She approached Coco, a hint of uncertainty in her voice. "Bonjour, Coco. You probably don't remember me, but…"
Coco's face lit up with recognition. "Marguerite!" she exclaimed as she rushed to embrace her. "But of course, I remember you, little dove. Who could forget this hair and these beautiful eyes? The most beautiful eyes of Paris, as I used to say."
After seeing Marguerite's selections, Coco insisted that they were a gift. "Just tell us the name of your hotel and your room number, and we will have them delivered."
Marguerite protested initially but accepted the generous offer in the end. She then introduced John to Coco, and he complimented Coco's work.
Coco, delighted with the conversation, suggested, "I am going for a walk in the park with a friend of mine. Come with me, it will give us a chance to talk more."
Marguerite and John agreed, thrilled at the opportunity to spend more time with the iconic designer. They walked to the Jardin du Luxembourg, one of Paris' most famous and beloved public gardens. The atmosphere was serene, with locals and tourists alike enjoying the peaceful environment, whether it was by reading a book, playing chess, or simply walking along the tree-lined paths.
As they walked, Coco Chanel's friend soon came into view. Marguerite and John quickly recognized the man approaching them. He was around John's age, with distinguished circular glasses and small mustache – it was none other than Igor Stravinsky himself, the renowned composer.
Marguerite, with a hint of delight in her voice, said, "Quelle belle surprise. We have tickets for tonight's performance of The Rite of Spring."
Igor Stravinsky responded with a warm smile, "Then, you must be my special guests."
As they continued their walk, Marguerite and Coco drifted a bit ahead, conversing in French. Meanwhile, Igor turned to John, "Let's speak in English, if you don't mind. I like to practice whenever I can."
John, pleased to engage, conversed with Igor in English. They discussed various topics, from Stravinsky's musical influences to John's own adventures around the world. The dialogue was a unique opportunity for John to gain insight into the mind of one of the greatest composers of the time while sharing his own experiences and perspectives.
Coco Chanel glanced at Marguerite with a knowing smile. "Lord John Roxton is very handsome. I guess the adventure sparked the romance?"
Marguerite replied, her eyes reflecting fond memories, "Something like that. We fell in love on the expedition. We got married when we returned home."
Coco's eyes lit up. "Quelle belle romance! It's like something from a novel. Tell me, is there any truth to the lost world? I've heard the official story, but I'm eager to know the real one. I promise it'll be our secret."
Marguerite pondered for a moment. "There is some truth behind it, but it is such a long story."
Coco, intrigued, continued, "I see... And before it? Where did life take Miss Krux after Paris?"
Marguerite answered, "First, to Monte Carlo. Then across the world. Wherever I went, I carried the lessons about men and women you taught me with me."
"And did they serve you well?" Coco asked.
Marguerite smiled wistfully. "Very much so. I faced heartache a few times, but each experience made it easier to understand. Eventually, understanding men became almost too easy."
Coco nodded, "I'm glad someone made use of my wisdom. I myself haven't been that lucky."
Marguerite, remembering the past, said softly, "I heard about Boy Capel. I'm so sorry."
Coco's expression turned somber. "Me, too. He was the only man I ever truly loved. I will never love anyone again."
Marguerite gently asked, "What about Mr. Stravinsky?"
Coco clarified, "We were involved for a while. Now, we're just friends, supporting one another. I've decided to devote myself entirely to my work."
Marguerite, with genuine admiration, replied, "Then it is the best decision because I've never seen anything more magical than Chanel creations. You are a true inspiration, Coco."
Coco smiled warmly at Marguerite. "Merci, Marguerite. When I look at you, I remember the timid and shy girl you once were. You've come a long way since then, it is obvious. Whatever you've been through, you've grown remarkably."
After the walk in the park, Marguerite and John parted ways with Coco Chanel and Igor Stravinsky to prepare for their evening at the ballet. Once back at the hotel, they made quick love, before enjoying a leisurely lunch from the room service, savoring the privacy and comfort of their suite.
As the evening approached, they began getting ready. Marguerite chose a sophisticated beige dress. She complemented her outfit with a string of pearls, adding a touch of timeless elegance. John, equally well-dressed in his formal attire, looked every bit the distinguished British aristocrat. Together, they made a striking couple, ready to immerse themselves in the artistic and cultural richness of Parisian nightlife.
Upon their arrival to the theater on the Champs-Élysées they were ushered to Igor Stravinsky's box, and were soon joined by Coco and the composer himself. Coco, in her trademark fashion, wore a very simple yet elegant black dress, embodying the recognizable Chanel style with its understated glamour.
The box offered a splendid view of the stage, with plush seating and an intimate atmosphere. As the lights dimmed and the audience hushed, the ballet began. Stravinsky's 'The Rite of Spring' filled the theater with its powerful and revolutionary music. The ballet was a feast for the senses – the dancers moved with a raw, almost primal energy, their movements a stunning interpretation of Stravinsky's challenging score. The choreography was a blend of traditional and modern, pushing the boundaries of what ballet could be.
The set was minimal yet striking, with bold colors and designs that complemented the intense music and dance. The costumes of the dancers were equally compelling, adding to the powerful impact of the performance.
Marguerite and John were completely absorbed by the spectacle, the groundbreaking music, and the passionate dance unfolding before them. It was an experience that epitomized the artistic innovation and daring of the era, a memorable evening that highlighted the depth and richness of Paris's cultural scene.
Back at the hotel, in the quiet of their room, Marguerite and John lay in bed, their foreheads touching, eyes gazing upward, lost in thought. Their hands were intertwined, the memory of the evening's ballet lingering in their minds. At some point, John lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it gently.
He broke the silence, his voice soft. "Sorry if I'm absent. I'm still under the impression of the ballet."
Marguerite turned to look at him, her eyes understanding and gentle. "No, no. It's quite alright. I'm still captivated by it, too. The music, the dance, it was all so stirring."
"Quite artists, both of them," John remarked.
"Yeah… This trip is turning out to be something else, isn't it?" Marguerite asked.
John, turning to face her, replied, "Yes, it's really rich with experiences. But I still prefer our private moments, like this one."
They looked at each other and smiled with a deep understadning gaze. John, with heartfelt emotion, added, "I love you so much." These words, often repeated, held a resonance that went beyond mere expression, echoing the depth and sincerity of their bond.
Marguerite's eyes softened, reflecting the same depth of feeling. "I love you, too" she replied. They shared a very sweet kiss and then simply lay there, their forheads touching. Marguerite gently caressed John's hair, her fingers softly tracing the side of his head.