“I’m sure it will be fine, right? And quick. Is that correct?” Alexandre’s voice was soft as she spoke, and she grew quieter by the second, until her voice was nearly inaudible. Her eyes darted between Elodie and the wooden double doors, as if they were going to burst open and suck her inside. In truth, Alexandre did need moral support. Without Elodie grasping her arm, I feared Alexandre may have bolted before we even stepped foot in the palace. But I knew that the king wouldn’t allow her to accompany us.
“That’s correct. The king only asked you here to sign some documents and request that you speak during the trial, I believe. It shouldn’t take long,” said Elodie.
King Louis had graciously waited another week after I awoke before calling us to court. Barring occasional bouts of exhaustion if I exerted myself too much, I was practically back to full health. This trip to court was the first time I left the château since the poisoning.
I was eternally grateful to my friends for their tender care of me during my illness, but lying in bed all day with nothing to do but read or sew was dreadfully boring. Even though my destination was Versailles, I was just happy to be up and about and doing anything other than grieve and stare out the window at the same admittedly lovely garden day after day.
Elodie whispered something in Alexandre’s ear, and though she was still pale and jumpy, my stepsister nodded and allowed Elodie to disentangle their arms and move over to my side. We’d all been trying to treat Alexandre as gently as possible. She’d been incredibly brave, but she’d lost her entire family in the process.
When Severine found out that Alexandre had turned Lady Catherine in, she needed to be restrained from attacking her sister. It was a difficult time for all of us, but the one who was suffering the most was Alexandre. She remained in the château with us, as I would never ask her to leave, and Elodie had been sticking by her as much as possible, which was a balm to be sure but not enough to entirely soothe the ache.
I hated Lady Catherine for putting her own daughter in such a terrible position. She’d never been a particularly loving mother, always favoring Severine, but those two were all Alexandre had for the longest time. I could only hope, and vow to show her, that she wasn’t alone.
“Ready?” I asked with what I hoped was a reassuring smile.
When Alexandre nodded again, I led her to the double doors and waited as the guards standing on either side shoved them open and gestured us inside.
We were greeted by the sight of the king sitting on his great wooden throne atop a red-velvet dais to match the canopy above him, surrounded by advisors and other court dignitaries. The dauphin stood by his father’s side, looking splendid in a purple velvet justaucorps accented in gold. When he saw us enter the room, he offered me a small, tentative smile that nearly made me trip, I was so surprised. I’d expected that he’d still be angry with me, but he didn’t seem upset at all. Was it all an act for his father, or was it possible that he’d forgiven me?
The king, however, looked down his long nose at us, lips sternly pressed together. If I hadn’t known better, I would have assumed that we were the ones in trouble. Maybe we were the ones in trouble. Perhaps Lady Catherine had convinced him that she was innocent and cast the blame on me instead. It was far-fetched, but I wouldn’t put anything past her, and the king was known to be temperamental. All kinds of horrible fears along a similar vein ran through my head until I realized that the king wasn’t looking at us at all. His gaze was fixed on something just behind us. I turned my head slightly to the left and spotted someone out of the corner of my eye whom I’d hoped never to see again.
“Lady Catherine,” I gasped involuntarily.
I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Alexandre paled even further, her face turning a sickly white when she caught sight of her mother being escorted into the throne room by two guards.
Escorted was a gracious way to describe the way two guards dragged a bedraggled Lady Catherine into the room. Her dress was ripped at the hemline and covered in stains, while her hair hung loose and tangled around her shoulders. It was a far cry from the sophisticated, refined image she had invested so much effort into presenting at court. She must have hated looking such a mess in front of so many important people. But you wouldn’t be able to tell it from her face.
Lady Catherine’s lips were trembling and her eyes so downcast that she didn’t even notice Alexandre and me until the guards deposited her in front of the dais, across the room from us.
She spotted me first. There was a flash of something in her eyes that I couldn’t place. Probably veiled rage. But when she caught sight of Alexandre, her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, ma fille chérie. I’m so happy to see you,” Lady Catherine said, her voice choked with tears. “Are you all right? I’ve been so worried. I tried to get in contact with you. Why aren’t you staying with your sister?”
I felt Alexandre’s arm stiffen, but she didn’t even glance at her mother, keeping her eyes on the king instead. All I could do was make sure to keep a firm grip on her arm and pat her hand encouragingly. It was woefully inadequate to soothe the tumult Alexandre was surely feeling at being in the same room as her mother.
Why was Lady Catherine here? We were only supposed to be signing documents and confirming our stories. Something else was clearly going on, and I didn’t appreciate it being sprung on us so suddenly. It was odious to be anywhere near the woman who murdered Papa—who tried to murder me.
“This is all going to be over soon, ma coeur. I promise,” Lady Catherine called out, undeterred by her daughter’s lack of response. “Just as soon as I clear up these . . . misconceptions about me, fueled by the egregious lies someone in this room has been spreading.”
The king ignored Lady Catherine. “I’ve brought the Ladies Cendrillon and Alexandre here today to confirm their stories. Accusations such as the ones leveled against Lady Catherine are not to be taken lightly. Often, I find it is most revealing to hear them in person instead of indirectly. And to hear them in front of the accused.”
This was a test. The king wanted to make sure that we weren’t lying by throwing us into a room with Lady Catherine to see if our stories changed when we were face-to-face with her.
It wouldn’t bother my stepmother in the slightest, but I’m sure telling the story—even though it was true—would be hard for Alexandre. It ensured her mother’s continued imprisonment, which was an awful burden to bear, made doubly so by having to look her in the eye while reporting to the king.
It was cruel to make her do this, especially after how brave she’d already been. But the king wasn’t known for kindness.
“Lady Cendrillon de Louvois,” he said firmly, turning brown eyes that were nothing and everything like Auguste’s on me. “Is the woman standing across from you, Lady Catherine de Louvois, your stepmother, the person who poisoned you?”