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Chapter 1

Wedding

Wedding

The wind drove the leaves along the dusty road, it was a beautiful sunny day.

The noise of the bells carried its ringing throughout the entire area with dozens of ringing bells, breaking the usual silence of this small village of Saint Vollier, so common in France these times. A multitude of barefoot boys ran in a small, noisy flock to the village church, kicking up the dust in a column. The people were going to a big event for this small village, the wedding of noble gentlemen. A beautiful spring day shone in these parts. The dauphine breathed the scent of wild forest grasses and flowers. Lush vegetation, blossoming and waking up in spring, mixing with the smell of clean transparent streams running down from the mountains, like the veins of this place and the breeze coming from transparent lakes. Yes, it was Dauphiné, Diana’s home. Today was her wedding day. Diana was barely 15 years old.

She stood in a wedding dress that sparkled with white. Her veil wrapped around her entire appearance, like a cloud. Her face seemed to glow with sparkling marble of incredibly white color. The stronger was the contrast of her black hair, like a raven’s wing. The very white skin of her face filled with even greater pallor that day.

The bride stood by the window, pale and pensive. There was everything: a wedding dress, a white cloud of a veil, a delicate bouquet of white flowers, only her face did not shine with a joyful smile. Diane de Poitiers was the only daughter of Jean de Saint Valier. It was an ancient, proud, but, alas, impoverished family. Diana’s mother was from a very noble family. Her family was much older than even the family of the Valois kings. In the veins of Diana flowed the blood of the once former kings of France, the Miroving dynasty. Diana always remembered this, despite the fact that everyone around had forgotten about it. Her father was a noblest soul man and nobleman Jean de Poitiers, Senor de Saint Valier. He was a thin gray-haired man with brooding eyes filled with depth. He looked at his daughter. She smiled back at him affectionately. He knew that Louis de Brese was a good match for his daughter. A very noble, great seneschal of Normandy and the chief jagermeister of France was one of the wealthy and dignitaries of the state, close to the king himself. He married his beautiful daughter, although he was 40 years older than Diana. He, her father will be calm about her future.

Are you ready my dear? He asked, kissing his daughter on the forehead and looking at her.

She silently nodded back, smiling at the corners of her lips, and took his arm.

He slowly led her to the exit. There was a noisy crowd in and around the church when their carriage pulled up and they got out. The father took her, his treasure, to the altar to give it to the groom, where he was already waiting for her. If such, that is, he could be called a groom. Far from being a young age of men who was supposed to become her husband. Outwardly, nature has not endowed him with even a small bit of beauty. He was simply ugly, thin and tall. He carried himself haughtily and arrogantly, erect to his full height and throwing his chin up, pursing his thin lips in arrogance. But, this position did not help in any way to hide his sparse hair on his head, carefully combed to one side.

They were some kind of incomprehensible dirty shade mixed with gray hair. The thin, dry face was deeply wrinkled.

The lower thin lip is arrogantly compressed and from that it seemed to be not there at all, she disdainfully rose up. Colorless, like a fish’s eyes, they were cold. He looked at the bride and his lips barely moved, trying to portray a semblance of a smile. His whole appearance resembled a large swollen ball, full of his own significance and arrogance.

He, Louis de Brese de Molvrier, is one of the most noble, wealthy and influential people in the state. Having spent his entire life as a bachelor in travel and entertainment, by the age of 56 he decided that he needed an heir to his high rank, position and family. He had been choosing a wife for a year already. But, no one was worthy of him. He was sure of this and found flaws in all applicants. But, once he accidentally saw Diana at one of the receptions, he was struck by her incredible beauty. Like a forest fairy, she did not leave his head. But, no, do not think, he did not fall in love. For such a person, love had rather a different meaning and form. Except for love for himself, he probably did not feel any other. And since Diana was just a beauty and sparkled like the moon in the night sky, blinding everyone around that evening. De Brese decided that, perhaps, he would descend to her from Olympus of his greatness. And she will not find a better groom, just as for him she will be the best passion. Her poor, though noble family made him snort contemptuously. Diana was not interested in his greatness of the past family at all. But, nevertheless, he decided that a lady like her noble, but not so rich, should be happy with his proposal and such a groom. And so, with these thoughts, he went to a meeting with her father, declaring his intention to marry Diana. And now everything is decided the wedding will take place in a small church, in an equally small village.

And he, as a tight-fisted or simply greedy person, will not have to endure too much costs and losses. Having done all the calculations, he was once again very pleased with himself and his choice.

Candles were burning in the church, flickering and jumping like fireflies, smelled of incense. Diana stood straight, like a marble statue. She was calm. Her face reflected the flickering of the candles, like glints of light on white marble. She knew her father did it for her good. They were far from rich, and their estate had completely fallen into disrepair. Their house was often attended by the same as her father, noble nobles with empty pockets. Their honor and nobility were as great as their pockets were empty. They spoke noble speeches with gloomy faces, for which they, undoubtedly, could be put behind bars, or even completely deprived of their heads. They talked about the situation of nobles like them. About exorbitant taxes and fees and not justice of the government and its imminent collapse. And then her father would go somewhere and return gloomy and silent.

She loved her father with the tender love of her daughter and knew that their ancient family had won their title and name only by their courage, valor and honor. Many centuries ago, her distant ancestors fought alongside the kings. But, as often happens, they were forgotten. And, as you know, unfortunately, in this world for enrichment, nobility is not the most faithful ally. From them turned up their noses those who have got riches far from their nobility and honor. They also could not boast of the antiquity of their kind, but only the width of their pockets. And now people like her father were out of the court.

Winter, winter

She looked at the ugly old man, and revulsion pierced her heart. He looked at her with his fishy, cold eyes and she said yes. Now he is her husband. A thought flashed through my head, and like a wounded bird plunged into darkness.

They were sitting at a beautifully set silver table. The morning was lovely. The birds chirped happily and a fragrant breeze blew from the open window. She looked down at the omelet, trying to pretend she was eating. Thoughts swirled in a string of tangled chains, wedding night memories, burning her brain. Cold, dry and rough hands on his skin, and such a disgusting smell of his body. Somewhere there, in the depths of her soul, something broke and fell into a bottomless abyss, black and cold, the same as this night. The memory stabbed with almost physical pain in her temple, as if a shot echoed somewhere inside her heart. She tightened her grip on the fork. And then, long-term use of a sponge and water. She rubbed herself so hard, trying to wash off his touch that her skin turned red. Well, then. Oh, nightmare! His presence is near and his smell is so unpleasant. Her whole being was filled with disgust for him, for her father, for the whole world! So she lay on the edge of the bed until day touched the window. His voice brought her out of the cold memory like a slap in the face. She shuddered involuntarily.

My dear. He said.

Do you like breakfast?

I see you are not eating anything.

So what good are you weakening. But, an exhausted woman, he continued, cannot bear healthy children.

Children? Horror gripped her in a cold grip, and it became difficult for her to breathe.

Children! His children! The very thought that inside her womb there would be a particle of him, this person, led her to indescribable horror. Her stomach ached and she thought she was going to vomit.

But keeping her composure, she looked at him coldly and answered.

That she doesn’t have such a hearty breakfast in her habits and promised that at lunchtime she would definitely be hungry and eat everything.

I hope, I hope. He answered.

Breakfast was finally finished.

She never ate a bite.

He got up and said that he was going on a horse ride to go around the estate. She replied that she was tired and would stay at home. He went to the exit and already at the door suddenly turned and said.

My dear.

How lucky you are! You are now Madame de Brese!

Even yesterday, you could not imagine and hope for such a great success in your life! He said to her, curling his thin lips into a semblance of a smile, and left.

And she remained standing humiliated and insulted to the depths of her soul by his words. Only her eyes for a moment flashed with a yellow fire and somewhere far away, in the very depths, lit up with burning hatred for the retreating figure of the Comte de Molvrier.

She clenched her little fists so tightly that her nails dug into her skin and drops of blood oozed from the wounds. And the heart seemed to sink into emptiness and stopped beating forever.

Winter, winter!

Everything outside the window dressed in white clothes and ruined the already not very good roads. A year has passed since her marriage. The count had been absent for over a month. Going to Paris on business. But what the count was doing, everyone knew, perhaps. Despite his almost incredible parsimony, the count was an avid gambler. It is not known how such incompatible qualities as incredible stinginess and a gambler were intertwined in him.

He forced his young wife, who was already pregnant, to walk in indecently patched petticoats for his meager outfits. Diana only had a few decent dresses. Fortunately or unfortunately for her, Diana almost never appeared. Upon learning of her pregnancy, she fell into deep melancholy, secretly hoping for a miscarriage. The pregnancy was difficult. She was even paler than usual and had dark circles under her eyes. The contractions began unexpectedly. She felt pain, bending over, groaned. She understood what had begun. The servant who was with her came running to her call. The maid screamed, waving her arms.

Oh, you’re giving birth, madam! Oh oh! She repeated.

The maid helped her to the bed.

They sent for an experienced midwife who took on more than one birth. Enough time passed, and the Countess gave birth.

Everything turned out well, she gave birth to a girl.

Madam, it’s a girl. The midwife said. She wanted to bring the baby to her mother.

Take it away, came the dull voice of the Countess. Take it away, Diana repeated, hoarsely.

Get her away from me, she repeated. Not wanting to look at the child. The old woman was taken aback. Diana, white as death itself, with blue lips, repeated breathlessly.

Take it away! I told you!

But what about, madam? The beginning was an old woman. The Countess sat up in bed, pale with tangled hair, her eyes widening. She looked at the child with full eyes, it seemed of some kind of horror.

Take her away! She repeated it firmly, turning away from her daughter.

Find a wet nurse, let them bring a woman here. Do you understand me?! She gave the order to the maid holding the crying child. His scream cut her to pieces like a knife, but she did not look in his direction.

Come on already! She cried out, unable to bear this agony any longer.

Leave me alone. Finally, she said softly, as if her last strength had left her. The old woman and the maid did not move, not yet recovering from her words.

Go ahead! She screamed at them, pulling them out of their stupor. Finally, they left, taking the child with them.

A week passed, she was sitting by the large fireplace, wrapped in a large woolen blanket, and her eyes fixed on the window. She looked at the coldness of nature, the frosty patterns of the world. She has not seen her daughter since her birth. I only asked the servant how a child was and whether she was healthy. The nurse was quickly found, it was a pink-cheeked, healthy woman. The Countess ordered the servant who entered the room to be called.

After a while a woman waddled into the room with a brisk gait. She stopped next to the Countess. Diana looked from the window to the woman and asked her in a quiet, calm voice.

How is my daughter?

Madam, very good. The woman answered.

Eats for two.

Smiling innocently, she said.

My tomboy is barely enough.

But, I have more than enough milk. She hastened to assure the Countess. Afraid that she might think that she has little milk and will look for a replacement for her.

Would you like to take a look at her? Timidly, she added, looking down.

The Countess sighed wearily.

No, not now, later. She added, thoughtfully.

You can go now. She finished the conversation. Moving again my gaze to the cold landscapes outside the window. The woman waddled to the exit. Suddenly, as if remembering something, Diana called the woman’s name.

Margarita.

The woman turned around.

Thanks, Diana added quietly, and smiled wearily at the nurse. And she answered her with a bright, open, sincere and happy smile. Which only a loving mother who remembered her child has.

What are you talking about, madam. Yes, not at all. She answered good-naturedly and left the room.

Poitier stared at the cold outside the window again, her gaze fixed.

Cold, she thought.

God! So cold! She said barely audibly. Feeling cold inside with all my being.

I have a daughter. Even more quietly, she spoke her thoughts aloud. Not noticing that she is talking to herself.

But why is it so cold?! A thought flashed.

She saw her daughter a month later. They brought her a rosy-cheeked girl, already rounded in the milk of a country woman. She looked at the child, but the cold did not disappear, only her heart pricked, as if it had been pierced with a thin needle. The girl smiled at her mother, the countess smiled back at her. The baby looked at her as if she knew that she was her mother. Looking at her with interest, and now and then, touching her with his little hands. After holding the baby in her arms for some time, Diana gave the baby to the nurse. Strange, but the girl suddenly burst into tears, finding herself in the arms of the nurse, as if she knew exactly who her mother was. Diana felt the pain of the needle in her heart again. And then, again, the cold filled her entire being. So the second meeting of mother and daughter took place.

The count returned from Paris.

He was extremely annoyed and dissatisfied.

Why do I need girls?! He repeated.

They’re useless!

I need an heir!

Do you hear, Madam?!

As if she was the fault of the daughter being born instead of her son. Diana raised her eyes, cold and dark as night.

Well, pray to the Lord! Monsieur!

He might hear you! She rapped out coldly.

He looked at her and snorted in displeasure, continuing to mutter something, nervously left the room.

The girl was named Louise.

She was three years old when her sister, who was named Françoise, was born.

Like the eldest daughter, the Countess gave her to the nurse. The count was simply furious. He vomited and thrashed, telling Diana rather rudely.

You give birth to some girls!

You seem to do it for my evil! He blamed her.

I need an heir! He shouted.

No good from you!

You are useless!

Poitiers turned pale, she was tormented by only one desire that he would finally shut up!

Be silent forever!

She wanted to kill him!

Oh yes!

She looked at him and thought how wonderful it would be to never hear him again!

She even imagined how best to do it.

Poison or knife?!

Which is better?

But, Poitiers was incredibly God-fearing and a believer and her thoughts were just thoughts, and perhaps this was the only thing that stopped her from taking such a step.

And she just answered coldly.

You seem to be praying badly for an heir, monsieur! She parried evil.

Their life flowed monotonously and monotonously, the count very often went to Paris. As he spoke on business. Poitiers, it was completely indifferent where he was. He was on the road more often than on his estate. Diana was only glad of this. Years passed. Winter changed imperceptibly to summer. Poitiers saw her grown-up daughters often. The eldest was nine, and the youngest was only six. Both girls were surprisingly very similar to their father. They weren’t very pretty. They had the same delicate features, the same colorless eyes and a thin nose. They took all the facial features from the count. They had almost nothing from Poitiers. They were surprisingly different from their mother, that those who stood next to them could be mistaken for strangers.

Summer shone with colors, the world passed its usual circle. The trees were blooming again, filling the world with the scent of rain mixed with the scent of flowers.

Once, one such beautiful morning, when the girls were walking with the nanny in the garden, and Diana was standing on the large front staircase of the mansion. Her eldest daughter came up to her and asked.

Mom, she said.

Can I ask you something?

Yes, of course, honey. Diana answered.

Mommy, don’t you love us at all? Me and Françoise? The Countess was taken aback by such a question.

The child’s question was incredibly simple. But, she shuddered and froze in place from the surprise of the question. She looked at this not very pretty girl, at her own daughter. And her heart sank so hard in her chest that it seemed to her that she would now cry out in pain. It was as if a cold, bony hand had grabbed him, and, closing his fingers, decided to crush him. Her breath caught and it became difficult for her to breathe, and her eyes were moist, filled with tears. But, they just froze in her eyes, leaving somewhere deep in her soul.

She knelt down next to the child, hugged and hugged her daughter to her, and answered quietly.

Of course, I love you! Her voice was trembling.

Of course I love you!

How can I not love you?! My dear!

You are my children!

How can I not love you?!

How can this possibly be?! She spoke to the girl, stroking her hair.

It just can’t be!

Remember this honey, okay! She whispered softly, kissing the girl on the forehead.

The little arms of the girl put their arms around her neck, and the child happily hugged her mother. Poitiers hugged her daughter tenderly.

Do you really love us, Mom? The girl said naively, hugging her mother.

Of course! Of course dear! Poitiers whispered, trying not to burst into tears and tenderly hugging her daughter.

Poitier got up from her knees and stroked the child’s hair.

Now go my dear.

Look, Françoise and the nanny are waiting for you. She said softly.

The girl smiled, the pure smile of a child, and answered.

Okay, Mom.

Françoise and I love you very much too!

Her little baby, as clean as an angel’s face, became serious.

We love you very much! She added and ran away to the nanny and sister.

Diana waved her hand and turned away, tears streaming down her cheeks, tearing her heart. She had cried for the first time in those years of her unhappy marriage. But, tears flowed from her eyes, not because her daughters might think that their own mother does not love them. She cried because she understood. That she didn’t love them all this time, didn’t love her own children! Like her heart was a piece of ice, nothing more. And only today she realized that this ice had collapsed, causing her incredible pain. She realized it was just now. She still loves them! She cried, realizing what a monster such a woman must be, who did not love her own children! She cried, because only now she realized that it was not so! She went inside the mansion. The realization of all this tore her apart from the inside. She ran so quickly up the steps to her bedroom, as if a pack of dogs from hell were chasing after her, and, collapsing on the bed, burst into sobs, choking with tears and trembling all over. From the very depths of her soul, a sound like a howl escaped. It burst from the very depths of her being, from the most hidden part of her soul.

Little prisoners

Paris, Paris!

How many minds and hearts are thrown at your feet!

How many hearts have you broken!

With its mysterious, heady beauty!

Like a fatal beauty, heady, dangerous, beautiful and mysterious. Calling like an oasis in the desert

Insidious and capricious, in its contradiction.

Calling and repulsive, like a temptress woman. Heart of the world, with the soul of a woman playing with the hearts and lives of her admirers!

So close and earthly, but always so distant, like a star beckoning in the sky!

King of France Francis 1 lost the war to the Spanish monarch. France lost to Spain. Francis, having experienced the bitterness of defeat, being himself twice wounded, was captured. But, negotiations were underway to release the king. Francis signed the Madrid Treaty that dismembered France. But, the king was not going to fulfill his obligations. Except for one thing, to give your sons hostage. Dauphin Francis and his brother Henry the Duke of Orleans. And so, on March 17, the French court, knightly at that time, did not lead the secular, riotous life adopted later. Quite modestly, he gathered in the castle, on the banks of the Bidasson River, where the ceremony of handing over the princes, hostages of Spain, was to take place. They were to be exchanged for the monarch of the state.

This morning the court gathered just to escort the princes into exile, into captivity. It was a foggy, gray morning and the de Brese couple were also present at this farewell departure of the little princes. The entire courtyard gathered in the semi-dark hall of the castle, awaiting the appearance of the princes.

And so they arrived. Announced: «His Highness Dauphin Francis Duke of Breton»! «His brother, Prince Heinrich, Duke of Orleans»! The entire court fell silent, awaiting the arrival of the princes. The door finally opened and two boys entered the hall. The princes were still quite children. The heir to the throne, Francis, was eight years old, and his brother Henry was barely seven years old. The heir to the throne was a blond child with beautiful white curls of hair. The eyes, which, already now, were filled with their own significance. His chin was lifted up proudly.

The entire court bowed to the future king. He responded with a slight nod of his head. His expensive robes with ruffles and bows sparkled with jewels. The feather on the hat bounced upward from his confident step. He paused importantly in the middle of the room.

All the nobles began to approach the prince in turn, welcoming and wishing a successful sailing and a speedy return. The boy nodded back dryly and with dignity. His brother, little Heinrich, was still a child. The two brothers were incredibly even strikingly different from each other, like day and night. And this was undoubtedly the most correct comparison.

Heinrich was a swarthy, black-haired, thin boy with thin legs and protruding knees and large eyes, incredibly black, like a dark lake. He was dressed relatively simply in comparison with his brother. Poitiers greeted the heir to the French crown, like the others, and stepped aside to make way for the others. Her husband found a group of men and talked about something with them, leaving Diana alone. She stood and looked at this blond child, but already almost the king and understood that these unfortunate children were going to distant Spain as captives and might not return. And suddenly she noticed little Heinrich. He stood aside quietly and alone. His face was frowned. He tried to be brave, but fear was clearly visible in his eyes. Her heart sank. She realized that Heinrich was simply forgotten. After all, he is only the second son of the king. Nobody came up and greeted him. No one wished him a good sail. Nobody cheered, hoping for a quick return. She felt so sorry for the unfortunate child that in this outburst of compassion she went to him through the crowd. She came up to him, squatting in a curtsy and greeted him. The child shuddered and looked at her in dismay. But, after a minute, he made a serious face and nodded importantly in response to her greeting. And suddenly she was seized with such compassion and pity for this abandoned, forgotten child that tears welled up in her eyes. And forgetting about all decency, she knelt down and hugged the boy to her, hugging him.

You’re scared, I know. She said softly to him, holding his shoulders. It seemed that the boy was about to cry. But, he held back his tears, and only slightly sobbed, looking at her. She continued.

Don’t be afraid! Nothing will happen to you! I promise you!

You must be strong! Do you hear me?

I will pray for you!

Know that there is a heart here in France that prays for you and your return.

The boy stopped sniffing and calmed down. Hope and faith in her words lit up in the children’s eyes. It seems that his fear has really disappeared. She got up from her knees and again crouched down in a curtsy away from him. The boy became serious again.

The princes were seated in the boat, and she slowly began to disappear into the fog, carrying them into the unknown. Diana and the entire courtyard stood on the shore. She raised her hand and waved goodbye to them. Male

Freedom

Black clouds are hanging over the de Brese estate. A cold, gray morning slipped from the sky like a drizzling rain. Making the world around us dull gray. The priest continued to speak over the cold, black burial hole in the de Brese family crypt. Finally, he finished his speech. The black hole with the body of the count was covered with a gravestone with a grinding noise. As if it had been swallowed by the toothless mouth of a monster. Diana stood over her husband’s grave. She was dressed in black mourning clothes and from this her already white face seemed almost unnaturally white. She gazed silently at the grave. The smell of the damp earth of the crypt, mixed with the smell of musty and dead body, hit my nose. It was the smell of death. Her daughters stood by. People pushed the stone, hiding the body of the count forever. The farewell of the living to the dead was over. She and her daughters returned to her mansion. The count’s funeral was completely exhausted by her constant visits and condolences. She was so tired that she collapsed into a chair by the fireplace. Her gaze involuntarily settled on the door. And suddenly, she understood. He will never go through this door again! Her husband is dead! And now she is a widow. She thought.

And then another thought rushed into her head.

No! She is not a widow! She is free! Free! From eternal humiliation. From his presence. From the smell of it in my bed. From his eternal discontent. She is free! The thought burned through the brain.

Free! As if reveling in the thought, she thought.

And the heart suddenly shuddered with joy for many years for the first time and unexpectedly for herself, revived. Her eyes suddenly flashed with fire, sparkled and lit up with life. As if she had been dead until that day. She abruptly got up from the chair in which she was sitting and almost ran to the window, throwing it wide open with a sharp movement. Fresh air burst into the room, outside the window was the same gloomy weather, it was damp, and it was drizzling with rain. She smelled the smell of rain mixed with the smell of wet earth and breathed in this life-giving scent deeply, closing her eyes in pleasure. She whispered delightedly, as if she had seen this world for the first time.

What a delightful day!

A smile lit up her face for a long time. Another thought came, replacing delight.

I’ll put up a monument! From a big, heavy stone! She smiled wider. Not noticing that he is speaking out loud.

I’ll erect a monument for you, Monsieur de Brese!

And I hope its weight will crush your bones in your crypt!

She almost cried out and her eyebrows came together menacingly on the bridge of her nose. And a picture from the past appeared before her eyes. As if it was only yesterday, and his voice is cutting, like a knife through her heart, with every word the count said.

How lucky you are, dear. You are now Countess de Brese. Her eyes flashed with fire. Excited by the memory, she continued to speak aloud.

I’ll put up a monument for you!

To make sure that if you want to get out of there, he will block your way! She finished contemptuously.

It will be very big! She added. Having finished his involuntary speech, and not noticing that he is speaking aloud to himself. Sighing with even greater pleasure deeply the scent of a chilly day.

The monument was surprisingly very large and heavy, it was hardly erected. When the workers finished with the installation, she let them go and was left alone at the count’s grave.

She spoke quietly, her appeal was to the count. As if the deceased count could hear her.

Hope you like your monument?

I hope monsieur! She added with a furrowed brow and sparkling eyes in a barely audible, trembling voice.

I hope he crushes you in your crypt! If you suddenly intend to get out of there, then this block will close your way!

A nervous shiver went through her, and her breathing became ragged with hatred for him. She began to breathe heavily, her lips tightened and turned blue. And the fists clenched and dug their nails into the meat. And suddenly, in a fit of deep hatred for him. She couldn’t help herself and spat on his grave.

That’s all you deserve from me! She cried out, straightening up. As if she finally got up from her knees over the years. And exhaling with relief, she added calmly and contemptuously.

This is all you deserve from the unworthy of you, Monsieur de Brise!

Hope you get devoured by worms!

She shot her gaze like a dagger at the monument. As if checking once again at the end, whether it is so strong and great. And making sure that this is so, proudly throwing her chin up, she turned sharply and walked firmly away. She never looked back.

Now sorting out her affairs, Poitiers realized that her husband had left her and her children nothing! He not only left them no funds, but also left exorbitant debts! Having laid the same and their estate. Everything was lost to them in gambling. The amounts of the debt were large and if it is not paid, then she and her children may simply lose everything. Including the estate. She was sitting in the office on the table and on the floor there were invoices, debt papers and papers on the estate pledged for debts. She couldn’t believe it. She sat silently resting her head on her hand. Things were nowhere worse.

What should she do?!

Where will she go after losing her estate?!

Where will her children be?!

What will happen to them?!

Despite the cold to her daughters, she still loved them. Always trying to take care of them, give them proper education and upbringing.

And most of all she was worried about the fact that having lost the estate, the girls will not be able to sanctify a good marriage party.

God! Who will need them?! Poitiers thought in despair.

Who will marry them?! If the world learns about their almost complete bankruptcy!

Besides, the poor things weren’t pretty anyway.

Among other problems with the estate, dark clouds soon thickened over her beloved father. He was accused of conspiracy and, along with other conspirators, was imprisoned. He could face execution. But, the full accusation had not yet been brought forward, which means there was hope.

She sat gloomy and lonely in the office, once again looking at the papers. As if desperately hoping to find a way out, hoping for a miracle.

What should I do?! Oh my God! She escaped desperately. The situation seemed hopeless. She was completely desperate. Putting her head in her hands, she sat there without moving and staring at one point. How long she sat like that, she did not know, but suddenly she shuddered. She was seized with anger at herself for her weakness and inaction.

Something needs to be done!

We must go to Paris! Suddenly she spoke out loud, talking to herself.

To Paris, to the king!

No one else can help me, only the king! She finished resolutely.

But, the question arose. How? And then, she remembered. She decided to seek help from a lady. She remembered that this lady was a noble, but long impoverished family and therefore was attached to the retinue of one incredibly wealthy and noble 60-year-old widow. With a high rank and an equally large pocket. Who with all her might tried to rejuvenate and spent a lot of money on outfits, blush and jewelry. And she gathered around her a lot of noblewomen in her retinue, thereby showing everyone her high position. They, for a certain fee, showed her their admiration and did not skimp on flattering praise. The widow loved to be in society and at court. Poitiers immediately wrote a letter to her friend asking her to recommend her for a place in the retinue. The answer came quickly. The answer was: «That Poitiers may soon arrive and will undoubtedly be the adornment of the retinue and the widow will gladly accept her.» Then there were other secular news and courtesies. The letter ended with the fact that she would be eagerly awaited. Leaving orders at the estate, Poitiers left after a few days and was accepted for her new place for weeks.

The widow turned out to be a plump little 60-year-old woman with overly rosy cheeks, the reason for which was the widow’s very great passion for blush and an equally great predominance of powder.

Why her face was white as a sheet. In all her strange appearance and image, she resembled an owl hung with jewels. She had a special passion and love for them, hanging herself with them so wastefully that she resembled a Christmas tree.

Once, having stayed with one of the ladies of the widow’s retinue in the old lady’s room, the girls saw a beautiful necklace with diamonds on the dressing table of an elderly lady. The stones were of amazing beauty and purity. Sunlight fell on the beautiful stones, and they sparkled with thousands of lights. The girl who was with Poitiers gasped with delight! She said with admiration, addressing Diana.

My God! Darling, look what a delightful beauty! God! What shine!

They cost a fortune!

She did not take her admiring eyes off the stones. Poitiers looked at the stones, sparkling in the sun, and suddenly the wrinkled neck of the widow, turning into an equally wrinkled face, and diamonds hanging from that old withered neck appeared in front of her eyes. And the diamonds suddenly faded in her eyes and went out. She simply answered.

My dear, their brilliance does not disturb my heart.

She smiled at the girl, who raised her eyebrows in surprise.

You are definitely a strange woman! She answered. Not believing Diana.

God! Do you really care! She said, puzzled.

Poitier just smiled back at her.

And now, finally, what happened to her came to the widow’s estate. They are leaving for Paris!

Chapter 2

The era changes the era and the court no longer lead the puritanical life that it had before. The current courtyard was different. Fun and carelessness reigned everywhere. Morals have also become different. Husbands easily got mistresses, and wives were not inferior to them in this either. Carelessness was everywhere in dress, manners, poetry and paintings.

So the Countess de Brese was leaving for Paris. Hoping to meet the king. And, since the king was known as a lover of women and did not miss simply not one pretty, new lady who appeared at the court. That meeting with him was not so difficult.

So, she’s on her way to Paris. She is still young and beautiful, and she knew for sure that she was not going to Paris, but to the king. Because only the king could help her rescue her father from prison and pardon her from imminent execution, as well as save her from almost complete bankruptcy. She got into the carriage and they started. She sighed with sadness, thinking how far and possibly for a long time she would leave her beloved Dauphine.

And now, finally! He appeared before her eyes! Conqueror of hearts, eternal heartthrob, Paris!

Their carriage was driving along the stone, wide pavement. It was noisy and crowded around. The carriages, passers-by, everything seemed to be intertwined and mixed. Richly dressed ladies and gentlemen. Scurrying in different directions Parisian tomboy boys. Various small shops and elegant, richly decorated, expensive shops. And, also, all kinds of eateries and bakeries. From which the smell of freshly baked bread hung in the air. The girls from the noble widow’s retinue stuck their lovely heads out of the carriage windows with delight and delight, absorbing the Parisian bustle. Some young and handsome officer in military uniform, riding a gallant stallion, smiled at them and blew a kiss. The ladies smiled coquettishly. Poitiers raised an eyebrow and leaned back into the carriage.

However! What audacity! She thought, but one corner of her lips treacherously crept up. And she imperceptibly smiled only at them. Noticing to myself, however, that the officer, nevertheless, is very handsome.

They stayed at the Parisian home of a godly widow. The admission to the court was supposed to take place the next day. They will go to the royal palace, which was the funniest and most beautiful place in all of France.

The next day has come and here the king’s palace opened before her amazed gaze. The palace was surrounded by a beautiful garden, it smelled fragrant and bloomed with thousands of flowers, rustled and sparkled in the sun with rainbows from beautiful fountains, rustled with many voices, cheerfully laughing flirtatious ladies and their gentlemen amused. Everything mixed into a single music along with the singing of birds. The garden around the palace was full of beautifully dressed people. The festive, main entrance to the residence was framed by gilded gates, like a gateway to heaven itself on earth. Graceful carriages, drawn by magnificent horses, drove up one after another. Poitiers lowered her little foot to the ground and climbed down from the carriage. Unexpectedly for her, she suddenly smiled, so beautiful was the picture that appeared before her. Everything sparkled and shone in the sun with incredible colors. Her gaze rested on the fragile, as it seemed structure, the royal palace. And she was so delighted with his beauty that she froze for a moment. The palace was so graceful that it seemed to be made not of stone, but of an air cloud. He seemed to be hovering over a beautiful garden. He was so airy and graceful. The ladies from the retinue surrounded the widow and, in a noisy flock of chirping birds, went along the path to the park of the palace. Expressing your delight with noisy sighs and cheerful laughter. The park was full of beautiful ladies dressed in the latest fashion. Flashing with jewels and smiles, they were laughing merrily at something. What their equally well-dressed gentlemen told them stormily. And over all this, careless fun reigned. Seeing this entire splendor. Diana suddenly realized that her outfit from her meager wardrobe had long gone out of fashion. It was her widow’s dress, the only new black dress. It was too puritanical and constrained, and the neckline was not as deep as the current fashionistas wore. And her whole appearance was too constrained in comparison with the current fashion. The headdress turned out to be also modest, in comparison with the headdresses of the court ladies decorated with stones and beautiful feathers. Poitiers involuntarily became sad from these thoughts and her attire darker than the night. She seemed to fall out in such sad attire from this cheerful society full of fun, carelessness and laughter. In addition, in her own Dauphin, she did not wear headdresses at all. But, in Paris, it would be considered bad form, and she would undoubtedly be called for her eyes, a redneck. Therefore, she put on a headdress. But, he terribly interfered with her and did not want to stay on her head at all. She had to correct him every now and then so that he would not fly off her head. Upset by the fact that she does not fit into today’s society. Her sadness was replaced by anger. She furrowed her brows in anger at herself and at her momentary weakness. She forgot why she came here?! Intoxicated with the fun here! A picture of her beloved father in a damp dungeon appeared before her eyes, and she frowned even more, stamping her foot in her hearts!

What do I care about these stupid feathers, lace and outfits! She thought evil.

After all, I can always refer to my position as a widow.

And a widow shouldn’t flaunt her discharged clothes! She thought.

Further, whatever it was, she continued her thoughts and frowned even more.

I will still procure a pardon from the king for my father and forgiveness of my debts for the estate.

Will I wear those stupid feathers? Angry, she thought.

Or in this black widow’s dress.

I don’t care!

And she really stamped her foot heavily, exhaling and snorting contemptuously, like a horse coming first to the finish line. Throwing her chin up proudly, her walked slowly and confidently to the other ladies.

Not today, then tomorrow. She thought.

I will definitely meet the king!

He was not very tall, dressed in a suit of bows and ruffles, studded with jewelry. Protruding abdomen and crooked legs. And a smile that did not seem to disappear from his face, especially if there are beautiful ladies nearby! An old widow saw the king from afar. He was surrounded by a large retinue, which consisted mostly of pretty ladies. The noble widow, bustling and jumping up, hurried to the king. Waddling on her small and clumsy legs, clattering rings and other jewelry, which, as always, she was wearing in excess. Her ladies followed her. Approaching the king, she stopped and sat awkwardly in a deep curtsy to greet the king. Her ladies followed her example. The king smiled warmly and asked.

Madam, where have you been? I haven’t seen you for a long time? He said. And without waiting for her answer, he began to examine the widow’s retinue with interest. He passed appraising, almost like a cat’s gaze at the sight of sour cream at the ladies from the suite. And each of them, smiling, lowered her eyes, flirtatiously exposing her charms and squatting in an elegant curtsy. And so, his gaze fell on Poitiers. He already wanted to pass them on to the remaining ladies. But, Poitiers did not lower her eyes and did not rush to squat in a curtsy, keeping a pause. She glared at the king’s eyes like invisible pincers. He was surprised at such, almost insolence, and slightly raised an eyebrow. Her eyes, dark as lakes, grabbed him, not letting go. A minute passed, or just a moment, but the king did not take his eyes off her. And suddenly a slight smile lit up her face, illuminating her face with a beautiful light. And as if remembering, she slowly lowered her eyes, and gracefully sat down in a curtsy. Skillfully exposing her white, thin neck. Transforming into a seductive chest shape, this, unfortunately for the king, was hidden behind the fabric of the dress. And only his imagination completed this picture. Diana raised her eyes, waving her black, like fluttering butterflies, eyelashes. And, as if bashfully, she glanced again at the king. Hidden fire flashed in her eyes. She wanted to put them down again, but the king had already stepped towards her to meet!

Stand up, my dear, he said. Looking at her with interest. He held out his hand to her, and she rose from her curtsy.

What’s your name? The sweetest creature.

This is Madame de Brese. An old widow intervened. Proud that her lady aroused such interest from the king.

This is my new lady, your majesty. She continued.

The poor thing was recently widowed. Added an old lady.

Ah, said the king.

What sadness, madam.

Now it’s clear why you’re in black.

He smiled with satisfaction. He was not at all saddened by the news of the deceased husband of a beautiful lady, by no means, on the contrary. He again looked at her not deep cleavage and white neck. Already anticipating and seeing these delights in my bed. She lowered her eyes again, feigning embarrassment. But, at all, not embarrassed in the depths of the soul. She went to the king and here she is! Her cold head, at times, did not know embarrassment. Diana was a whole person. And she knew exactly why she was here and what for! Everything else was great game! And Poitiers performed this role superbly! Excellent reading in the souls of people. She always had this talent, almost mystical, to see through everyone. So now, she saw right through the king and made a challenge to him. This monarch, spoiled by female attention, was so oversaturated with beauties in his own bed that simply beauty was not enough for him. Even the beauty of such a beauty as Poitiers. She made a kind of challenge to the king. Remaining to stand, as if equal to him, and not bowing to the king at the first minute. And he undoubtedly noticed it. He undoubtedly saw the challenge in her burning eyes. And it was a risk! The king could be annoyed by this behavior. And, kings, as you know, not only pardon, but also execute! She could fall into no mercy, and lose her last hope for the salvation of her father and the salvation of her estate. But, Poitiers took a chance! And she won! She saw it in his eyes right now! The king was captivated by her beauty and courage, he was simply fascinated by her. Walking his eyes over her body, as if exposing her, he remained very pleased with his assessment.

After kissing her hand for a meaningful long time. Showing her and everyone present his interest. Diana met his eyes again, completing her result, bewitching the king. Fire flashed in her eyes again. As if lights were dancing in them, and pleasant goosebumps ran over Francis’s skin, promising a quick meeting. Having said goodbye to her, the old widow and her ladies, he withdrew, surrounded by his retinue.

Confusion lay in the royal chambers. The king stood naked, erect, importantly, on his crooked legs and looked out the window. Poitiers has been the king’s favorite for some time.

Ah, what a day!

What a wonderful day! He was chanting, almost jumping up and down with good spirits.

She looked at him. And she felt funny.

Here he is, the king! The man who ruled all of France! A little funny, not tall with a round bulging tummy on crooked little legs. He looked like a lazy house cat. Yes! Diana thought. This is the king! She smiled.

Who would have thought!

The most powerful man in the country! Freeing her father and writing off her debts!

Returning her estate to her, this cost him absolutely nothing. He looked more like Santa Claus, always cheerful and carefree like Francis. So Poitiers thought as she looked at the king

And in the morning there is a thick wallet on the table. He sat next to me and waved his leg contentedly.

Darling, this is a trinket for you. Dresses and pebbles, which women you are very fond of, as far as I know. He said good-naturedly. And after kissing her, singing something under his breath, he went out with his cheerful, almost jumping, gait. Her face, always so white, was covered in purple paint. She stared silently at the purse like an ugly snake. He left her this money on the table, like the last slut in France!

The color on my face changed to pallor. He also hinted to her that her dress was too dark for her new status as a favorite. Her heart sank with resentment and hurt pride.

Well, okay, your majesty! Thought Poitiers.

I will take your advice and your money.

Offended by his words, hinting at her inappropriate outfit for the king’s favorite, she went for a new outfit. And she acquired all the best and most expensive that she found in Paris. However, she did not abandon her idea of a widow. And she acquired a dress of dark blue color, the color of a gloomy fierce sea or a sea storm. And for the dress, the finest headdress, in the latest fashion, with beautiful stones and feathers. Also gloves and shoes that were in the same color as the dress. Wearing all this, she proudly threw her chin up, looking at her reflection in the mirror. A woman so gorgeous was looking at her from there that she caught her breath.

A white, thin neck, deep seductive neckline, seductively emphasized a beautiful rounded and lush breast. Sloping marble shoulders, an incredibly thin corset waist. The fluffy hem of the dress fell down from the waist, like a beautiful, sparkling waterfall of flounces and ruffles. The long hem of her dress enveloped her figure, as if the waves of a stormy sea were enveloping a beautiful statue. She gasped at her own reflection.

Having experienced an almost awe-inspiring bliss from the realization of one’s own beauty! She put on a headdress and gloves, and her image was completely complete. The headpiece was studded with beautiful stones and blue iridescent feathers, and the look was completed with beautiful sapphire earrings that made her white face even whiter, as if it were made of beautiful marble.

Her eyes sparkled like stars in the sky. Once again, looking at herself in the mirror, she proudly threw her head up. She was great and she knew it!

Yes, Your Majesty, I followed your advice!

And she had to admit that she was even grateful to him for it now!

The war between the two ladies

But, their relationship was not long. Francis was very careless, and Poitiers was too cold, he thought. And if at first, he liked it. Then, in the end, not being a man of deep thoughts and feelings, this cold beauty of Poitiers simply bored him. Being a lover of women, he quickly cooled down towards Poitiers.

One day, while walking with her through the avenues of the palace, he told her.

My dear, how beautiful you are.

You are undoubtedly a fragrant, blossoming rose.

But, I picked such a beautiful, unopened bud!

That I am incredibly captivated by his scent.

I hope you will forgive me for such weakness and rightly you will not be angry. He finished smiling, pleased with his poetic comparisons and with himself.

After kissing her hand, he walked away. He was still humming to himself, out of habit. She, of course, understood everything! With these words, the king told her that he had found a new lady, whom he was carried away once again. He undoubtedly offended Poitiers very much, calling her in a poetic form older than his new passion, comparing it with a blossoming rose, and a new passion with a bud. Saying at the same time that his new passion is younger than Poitiers.

I wonder who is this bud of yours? Your majesty. Snorting contemptuously, Poitiers thought.

The bud was Madame de Tamp. Poitier, knowing who it was, curled her lips, pursed them and snorted contemptuously like a thoroughbred horse.

So you think I’m old?! Your majesty. Poitiers thought as she watched the retreating king.

And I’m not talking about you at all, your majesty!

Disgusting, bow-legged old man! She added.

Squinting evil eyes, pursing and curling his lips even tighter. Feeling how everything inside her boils, with anger. Thinking of a king who was far from young and much older than Poitiers herself. If the gaze could kill, then the retreating figure of the king would fall dead!

She snorted with even greater relish, narrowing her eyes, and they flashed with unkind fire.

The bud was a young and rather attractive Mademoiselle de Tempe. She was really good, as Diana pointed out. Seeing this beautiful, blond girl. Her corset seemed to be tightened so tightly that she was probably carrying snuff with her, Poitier thought to herself. Afraid, at any moment she would faint from lack of air. Diana thought with a chuckle.

De Tamp was as white as only blondes. With a thin, as if transparent, with a pink tint and a slight blush of youth itself, the skin. They disliked their friend’s arcs at first sight.

But, the war, which was dubbed «The War of the Two Ladies,» started de Tamp, who was 10 years younger than Poitiers. And so her adherents began to talk about the faded beauty of Poitiers. Even poets and artists took part in this strife.

Diana was called a witch at court. Because, despite her years, she was surprisingly good. And even the younger maidens next to her looked very faded. They said about her that she knows the secret of some ointments and remedies. Especially infuriated by these rumors the Duchess de Tamp, who considers herself the first beauty. The fruit of this hatred became silly rhymes, pamphlets in which poets from her camp ridiculed Diane de Poitiers. Calling her: «Toothless and hairless, an old horse and a mushroom, which owes its appearance only to cosmetics.» On the instructions of de Tamp, more than one disgusting pamphlet offending Diana was written.

The pamphlets wrote: «Women cannot be reborn. Because those whom time has chosen to use, along with time, go out of use. Painted bait does not attract game. And even if you bought everything a woman needs. I would not have achieved what I wanted from a lover, because for love you have to be alive! And you are dead! This, undoubtedly, was completely untrue, and not as it could not harm Diana.

Because she looked no older than de Tamp herself, even though she was much older in years. Moreover, Poitiers could not be called a painted doll, since she used very little cosmetics. All this, of course, was a lie! Because Diana was undoubtedly beautiful. And these pamphlets only angered Poitiers terribly. She had no intention of forgetting or forgiving de Tamp. She swore to herself, to avenge the filth for the dirty trick! Poitier’s answer was not long in coming. Poets, in the Poitiers camp, and there were very few of them. They wrote response pamphlets to de Tamp «About too tightly tightened de Tamp’s corset and too out of proportion to the head. Its imperfect skull resembles an elongated egg. «The entire courtyard was divided into two camps. So the artist Primaticchio, all the time painted the Duchess de Tamp. His paintings were adornments of the royal gallery. And Benvenuto Cellini chose the beautiful Diana as a model. So, the war of poets and artists has begun! Which was full of barbs and comparisons, cleverly hidden in poetry, but so clearly hinting at this or that lady. War of two beauties!

Prince

Diana, having lost the king’s favor. She was practically alone in the circle of not many supporters. Whereas de Tempe, being the king’s favorite. She had the disposition of most of the courtiers. Her supporters caught her every word. Admiring her talents and beauty. Throwing in the direction of Poitiers malicious taunts and derision. But, Poitiers passing by the crowd of courtiers and hearing nasty things say in her back, did not even raise an eyebrow. They spoke deliberately so loudly that she could hear. Openly taunting her.

And then one morning Diana was walking in the garden. Not in a very good mood. The headdress on her head, as always, interfered with her. He didn’t want to stay on her head. Diana, in turn, simply could not stand them. This morning she was very annoyed, and the headdress disturbed her especially. Poitiers corrected him endlessly. She tugged at him somehow awkwardly; trying to correct him again and accidentally tore him up. The beads and precious stones sewn to it came off and rolled down into the grass like a hail.

Oh damn it! She swore inwardly.

She didn’t have the funds for new gems right now. Therefore, looking around like a thief and not noticing anyone nearby, she sank down to the grass, crouching down. And-oh-horror! She took off her glove and began to look for precious stones in the grass, collecting them. Hoping to later give them back to the seamstress, carried away by this occupation. Suddenly I heard a voice behind my back. The voice belonged to a man.

Have you lost something, madam? He asked.

She froze in horror.

Oh my god! She was scared.

She climbs with her hand in the grass, and there is no glove on her hand!

It was all the height of indecency!

Unworthy behavior of a lady of her position!

And now they’ll definitely call her a redneck!

And the vile de Tamp will write another vile pamphlet. This is undoubtedly! Diana thought about all this, frightened. She slowly and not boldly turned her head to the voice, remaining to sit over the flower bed. And she saw a handsome young man towering over her. He was a little dark and dark-haired. He looked at her with attentive eyes, black as night. He was dressed relatively simply, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps this young man came with someone’s retinue. Accompany some noble and wealthy courtier. So with de Tamp, he may not know. He smiled sweetly at her when he saw her frightened and confused look. She answered him awkwardly with an embarrassed smile.

He repeated the question.

Madam, have you lost something?

Oh, she replied, naively.

Pebbles fell off my headdress.

I tugged at it awkwardly and they fell into the grass. She finished naively, smiling wider at him.

Can I help you? He simply answered. And without waiting for her answer, he sat down next to her, began to diligently collect pebbles, swarming in the grass.

Seems like everything. He said, handing her all the pebbles he had collected.

She held out her little dirt-stained pen. Businesslike before this, brushing off his soiled hand on his other hand. He silently watched her actions. Seeing this, his eyebrows went up slowly. She smiled at him even wider and took the pebbles, busily putting them in a bag and putting on gloves, as if nothing had happened.

Oh! Thank God! Poitiers thought. It turned out to be this sweet young man, and not someone else. And nobody will know anything!

What are you doing here? She began the conversation with a question, so as not to be silly not to be silent.

I write poetry. Simple, he replied.

Poems? Poitiers was surprised, looking at the young man with interest and more closely.

What about you? He answered, question to question.

I haven’t seen you here before.

However, I only recently returned, he added.

You must have appeared in my absence.

She looked at him with interest.

So you’ve been at court long enough? Here in Paris? She asked the following question.

Well, you could say long enough. Smiling, he answered.

Oh yes, and how do you find it here? She asked.

He put on a sour expression, smiling. The answer is simple.

Pretty boring.

She laughed loudly.

You’re joking right!

You’re bored in the funniest place in all of France!

He gave her a big smile, enjoying her amusement.

So you write poetry? She continued.

Yes, he replied. Suddenly becoming serious.

Would you like to read it to you? He asked suddenly.

Yes, of course, Poitiers answered with interest.

He read the verse. It was about a butterfly and a rose. Diana listened intently to him. He finished reading.

Well, how do you like it? He asked. You like?

Yes, she answered honestly. You definitely have a good syllable.

But I think they seem to be missing something. Something I think is important. She added, thoughtfully.

What then? He asked with interest.

She continued just as thoughtfully, looking into the distance.

You see a flower and a butterfly, its gentle flutter. But, you don’t look further, deeper. To the very depth.

A month will pass and the rose will wither. And this butterfly will also die, its time is short. She spoke, still thoughtfully. Moving your gaze to the beautiful rose. She was silent, for a moment, and as if breathing air with a slight smile, she added.

But, the next year will come and the rose will be reborn and bloom. And the butterfly will also flutter over the rose. She finished speaking. I looked him straight in the eyes; they were the depth of the ocean. I would say this:

«Two roses will lie at the foot of the marble.

Butterflies will fly up to them carelessly.

Is it too early for us to despair?

We will be forever»!

She finished smiling. Her eyes seemed to sparkle with genuine joy. The young man looked at her with his black, pensive eyes and was silent. He was very serious. Finally, he spoke. Slowly not taking his eyes off her.

Yes, you’re right. I think I understand. Something was really missing.

She suddenly remembered that she had to go a long time ago. Find the old widow, in whose retinue she was still a member. She completely forgot about her, carried away by a conversation with a young man.

Forgive me, but I need to leave you. She told him.

I’ll show you. The young man answered.

She said she seemed to be lost and could not find the old widow she was a member of. She said the lady’s name and he laughed.