“That’s not so bad, is it?” he asked, giving me his sideways grin.
“No. It isn’t so bad.”
We sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, listening to the gentle wind rustle through the trees and to the cheerful burbling of the fountain. It was much more pleasant here in this little enclosure than on the paths. The fountain, which depicted the fable of the Fox and the Crane, brightened the space quite a bit. The basin was bordered with colorful rocks and shells of all different sorts, many of which I’d never seen before.
Atop a mound of rock and shell stood a red fox. Water arced from its mouth high up into the air and fell back into the basin. Opposite the fox was a crane, painted gray and black. It perched on one reed-thin leg, its neck curved down so it could sip from an elevated section of the basin. The colors were so vivid and the figures so lifelike that it felt like I was watching a real nature scene play out in front of me.
“I think I prefer the fountains in the maze to the ones in the main section of the gardens,” I said. “The main fountains are beautiful, but these feel a little more personal.”
“They were always my favorite too. Did you know they were designed with me in mind?”
“You mentioned it earlier. I didn’t know what you meant.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised that the fountains were designed for him. He was the heir to the throne after all. But it was striking how different our lives were. Even with Papa’s close relationship with the king, we hadn’t lived so ostentatiously.
“Charles Perrault worked with my father’s first minister of state. He suggested that my father have statues representing Aesop’s Fables built and placed throughout the maze to further my education. My tutor was impressed with Lord Perrault’s ideas. I hear he still collects little stories for children.
“I spent many hours playing and exploring in here as a child. My tutor would take me through the maze and have me read the plaques on each fountain and tell me the fables. It’s how I started learning to read.”
Prince Louis had a soft smile on his face as he recounted these memories. He looked gentler than I’d ever seen him. There was a childlike wonder in his eyes as he talked, and not like the child I’d met a year ago. Like someone kinder.
“Monseigneur, why did you choose me to court?” I asked abruptly.
The words escaped my lips before I even realized that I was speaking. I hoped he was too lost in remembrances to hear me, but those hopes were dashed when he turned to me with a curious expression on his face.
“It’s just . . . we hardly know each other,” I continued.
“I hardly know any of the other twenty-four ladies either. The entire point of these events is to get to know each of you so I can decide who would make the best bride.”
“But you didn’t know who I was—I could have been someone the king would never approve of you marrying.”
“It’s true that I didn’t know who you were when we danced. I approached you because I found you beautiful and wanted to talk with you.”
My cheeks were warm as I turned away to stare at the delicate figure of the crane. Anywhere but at the dauphin was preferable. Words like that often accompanied a seduction, or so I’d heard, but he didn’t sound like he was trying to woo me. He sounded quite matter-of-fact, and he didn’t even seem to notice my embarrassment.
“It was only after the dance that I realized who you were. The girl from the Orangerie.”
I whipped my head back around so fast, my neck cracked. “What did you say?”
The dauphin broke into peals of laughter so forceful, his whole body shook. I could only stare at him. His laughter didn’t suggest anger at my long-ago slight, but my expression must have suggested indignation on my part, because he sobered quickly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t laugh. But the look on your face . . .”
“How did you recognize me? I wasn’t even sure you could make out what I looked like.”
My annoyance had loosened my lips to a startling degree. This was the dauphin that I was talking to. But again, he didn’t seem angry, only contrite.
“When I recognized you, I remembered how awfully I’d behaved, and I was ashamed. I’d like to think that I’ve changed.”
Prince Louis looked at me beseechingly. I sighed. “You seem to have changed a great deal. I don’t think the boy I met a year ago would have apologized for anything, much less for something as silly as running ahead of me in a maze.”
His answering smile was dazzling in its brilliance. “That’s nice to hear. There was no excuse for my rudeness. But, in my defense, you and your friends were trespassing in my father’s Orangerie.”
“That’s true. We shouldn’t have done that. But if I may offer a defense, I was new to court and its protocols.”
“It’s ancient history now. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is why I chose you as the twenty-fifth maiden.”
He paused. If he was trying to achieve a dramatic effect, it worked. I leaned forward, caught on his every word.
“This,” he said, spreading his arms out wide, “is my apology. I decided to make it up to you by giving you the chance to become the future dauphine.”
I had to smile. As apologies went, this was certainly a unique one.
“I know this must seem overwhelming, but the solution presented itself to me at the ball. The way you were dressed made your nobility clear. And you were accompanied by Madame de la Valliere. But when I learned you were the daughter of the Marquis de Louvois, I knew it was fate. Everything couldn’t have worked out more perfectly.”
“I don’t know what to say. I am most . . . humbled.”
I meant most everything I said, except for that last part. I appreciated that he wanted to apologize for his past behavior, and to my surprise, I was enjoying the outing after all. Monseigneur was amusing to be around. He’d turned a stodgy walk through a hedge maze into an adventure, and he’d given me a chance to escape from Lady Catherine, for which I would always be grateful. I wanted to win this competition for my own personal benefit, but I’d never considered that a true attachment with the dauphin might also arise from this endeavor.
It was almost as if Louis read my mind when he said, “I can’t promise that I’ll choose you in the end. That wouldn’t be fair to the other ladies. But I can give you this chance. To see where things go between us. How we fit together. Or don’t. Though I certainly like how things are going so far.”
My stomach turned again as I glanced away from the intensity in his gaze. I could hardly believe that his apology entailed offering me the chance to wed him.
That wasn’t the entirety of it, of course. A crown was in the mix as well. The thought of that was difficult to wrap my head around. Was there an astonishing amount of arrogance wrapped up in the dauphin’s apology? Indeed there was, but it wasn’t the kind of arrogance that had made me dislike him so much a year ago. There was an earnestness, an honesty, that hadn’t been there before, and I appreciated that he was willing to reveal it to me. I couldn’t deny that I came away from this feeling a little softer toward Prince Louis.