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Monsieur knelt before his brother and helped him slip into his high-heeled shoes. Though His Majesty no longer dressed in the colors of flame and sunlight, as he had early in his reign, he continued his custom of wearing red shoes for state occasions. Diamonds encrusted the heavy gold buckles. The tall heels lifted His Majesty to a height of more than five and a half feet.
A footman brought a short ladder; Lucien climbed it. The royal wig-maker handed him the King’s new periwig, an elegant, leonine construct of glossy black human hair. Lucien placed it on the King’s head and arranged the long perfect curls across his shoulders. The wig added another three inches to his stature. Somewhere near Paris, a peasant girl had earned her father a year’s wages by sacrificing her hair.
Monseigneur the Grand Dauphin handed His Majesty his hat. The white ostrich plumes glowed in the morning light.
A murmur of appreciation rippled across the courtiers beyond the balustrade; as one, they bowed to their King.
The King led his family and the most favored members of his court out to face the day.
The workers grumbled, but Marie-Josèphe persuaded them to strain the sea water from the last few barrels. Along with bits of seaweed and a few periwinkles, the screen produced a half-dozen live fish.
“Just pour the water in the fountain, mademoiselle,” said the musketeer lieutenant. “The demon will catch the fish, like it caught the other.”
“It must come to me to take its food,” she said.
The musketeer grimaced. “Watch your fingers,” he said.
“It could have bitten me last night,” she said. “It could have drowned me. I’m safe enough.”
“You can never tell, with demons,” he said, as if he had considerable experience with demons.
“Can you bring me more live fish?” she asked one of the workers.
“Live fish, those aren’t easy to get, mamselle.” He ran his hand through his thin brown hair.
“Count Lucien will pay you well if you bring live fish.”
“And whip you if you don’t.” A tanned young worker with a sweaty scarf tied across his forehead laughed at his comrade. “With Georges’ whip.”
“He never would!” Marie-Josèphe exclaimed. But then she thought, He very well might, if he thought someone had slighted His Majesty.
“How many live fish do you want, mamselle — and how much are you paying?”
“Bring me as many as you’d eat for dinner — if you could eat only fish, and if you could eat only dinner.”
The workers dragged the last staves of the broken barrel out of the water and threw them into a wagon-bed. The clatter frightened the sea monster farther under one of Apollo’s dolphins. The workers touched their hats, clambered into the wagons, and drove away.
Several gardeners hurried to rake the wagon tracks and the hoofprints from the path, to clean away every clod of horse manure, and to vanish again, leaving potted flowers and trees in precise lines, carrying with them any wilted blooms.
The musketeers busied themselves lowering the sides of the tent, closing Marie-Josèphe off alone with the sea monster. She sat still in the silence, in the silken sunlight that poured through the top and sides of the tent. The sea monster, underwater, drifted closer.
Marie-Josèphe regarded the live fishes doubtfully. They twitched and quivered. If she did not feed them to the sea monster herself, soon, she might as well tip them into the fountain. Otherwise they would die. She rolled her embroidered velvet sleeve up above her elbow, reached into the jar, and grabbed one of the fish.
Gripping the wriggly thing tight, Marie-Josèphe knelt and swished the fish through the water.
“Come, sea monster.”
The sea monster lunged forward, but quickly turned aside. Ripples lapped around Marie-Josèphe’s wrist.
“Come here, sea monster. Come get a nice fish.”
The sea monster swam back and forth, a few armslengths from the stairs.
“Please, sea monster,” she said. “You must eat.”
The live fish writhed feebly. Marie-Josèphe opened her hand. The sea monster darted so close that her claws brushed Marie-Josèphe’s fingers. Marie-Josèphe gasped with delight. The creature snatched the fish and shoved it into her mouth.
“Good sea monster!” Enthralled, Marie-Josèphe captured another fish. “Fine sea monster!”
Frightened by her own boldness, the sea monster fled to Apollo to nestle beneath the hooves of the dawn horses.
Perhaps Apollo is driving the wrong way in order to retard time, Marie-Josèphe thought. Perhaps if he drives against the sun, time will go backwards, and we shall all live forever.
She glanced over her shoulder, toward the glow of the sun shining through the translucent tent wall.
She caught her breath. The sun was high, much higher than she expected. She flung the fish into the pond, ran up the stairs and out of the cage, slammed the door, and hurried outside.
When did Count Lucien ride away? she wondered. It was only a few minutes ago, was it not?
She tried to convince herself that she was not very late as she ran up the Green Carpet to the chateau.
She burst into Yves’ room, hoping his bed would be empty, hoping he had gone, hoping Odelette had awakened him. But he lay snoring softly in his dark room.
“Yves, dear brother, wake up, please, I’m so sorry —”
“What?” he mumbled. “What is it, what’s wrong?” He sat up, his curly dark hair sticking out at all angles. “Is it seven already?”
“It’s at least half past eight, I’m so sorry, I went to feed the sea monster, I forgot the time.”
Anger would have been easier to bear than his stricken expression, his silence.
“I’m so sorry,” she said again.
“It was important,” Yves said.
Marie-Josèphe hung her head. Her error made her feel like an errant child, not a grown woman, and she had no excuse, no defense.
“I know,” she whispered.
The silence weighed upon her.
“Where is Odelette?”
“I sent her to attend Mademoiselle in my place,” Marie-Josèphe said. “She had no way to know you should be awakened! This is all my fault, my responsibility.”
Yves put his arm around her shoulder.
“Never mind,” he said, his voice falsely cheerful. “I’d much rather sleep, than rise at dawn to watch an old man get out of bed and use his open chair.”
Marie-Josèphe tried to laugh, but bit her lip instead to hold back her tears.
