So here it is!
Madame Royale
***
The voices in my head plead for me to calm down, return to Louis and yearn for his comfort. Yet, there I stampede, storming through the marble halls, refusing, even against my own will to turn back. My brother, needs me most, my desires are no matter.
Before they can announce my name, I slam the doors wide open and stare, gasping for breath. “Louis, Louis”
“Princess Marie!” The nurses exclaim, as they sweep quickly into curtseys and I bow in return. “Where is my brother?”
“The Prince lays asleep, your grace”The continues reports of my brothers frail health muffles in my ears and I push away the ladies while I come upon the entrance of the bedchambers.
And the sudden nauseous wave suddenly hits me belly and I must hold onto something, something. Luckily, as if he was always there, holds Louis Antoine, his grip firm yet so warm and kind. “Strong, Marie, stay strong”
But my eyes cannot wander; wander from my brothers crumpled body, his dry pale skin, his hollow red eyes, his white lips. “Strong Marie” He chanters and once I do listen, I allow Louis to bring me aside from this ill room, from this death room.
***
Aunt Elisabeth plaits my hair, looping each locket carefully and delicately. She whispers tales of the beautiful virtuous Susanna and the wicked elders who lusted for her. Once refusing, they sentenced her to death, but yet her true husband conquered and saved his damsel in distress.
She pulls the tiny threads of my night gown and adds rose water upon my face. The ladies lace the cap of on my head and tuck in my braid, when finally, abruptly; Auntie dismisses them off and settles us both into the sitting chairs.
“Lady Aunt?” I inquire
“Marie, my beauty, I am so sorry”
My eye brows arch and I dare not to speak, for we both know what she is about to say. “I am so, so sorry, Marie, truly”
I can feel the muscles of my jaw tense as I clench my teeth hard, taming the tears that have started to gather behind my eyes. Her hands clasp around mine as she whispers softly and hums an old nursery rhyme. But it cannot solve the pains in my chest. “Is he...dead?”
Her eyes move to over gaze my shivering face, as she inclines her head. “No...But his health...they say he has not much to live...they say he is long dead”
“Not my brother, my god not my brother!” my body shakes in wrath with tears as Elisabeth soothes me.
But it cannot be done. Why must god punish me?
***
What year is it? I cannot remember, and how can I? What does it matter when my angelic brother is not there, tugging at my dress, sending me flowers? What does it matter when his intelligent blue eyes, beam no light, but lay in the cold marble floors?
Not even Louis can rekindle my broken heart. Nothing can.
We praised the lord, when he restored the prince to his health. Yet, my ever weak brother fell deathly ill two years later. His body, so small, so weak, could not withhold, and he passed. Just this cold October.
Sophie has disappeared into this thin air, and now has Louis. Am I to come forward? Am I to take deaths hand?
Will my only living sibling, Louis live? Or shall we all crumble to pieces?
Or has fate spun their fine yarn, to hand us a worse destiny? A penalty worse than death?
Our country falls before our very eyes, fathers position is questioned, and our sworn servants, sent packed far from this, Reign of terror.
Perhaps fate, waits for the peasants to strike, to split my family...perhaps they will discharge them with a shameful death. Or perhaps me? I am eleven, no more a girl to them, I have royal blood and flesh, a cost not worth gambling for. Shall I die at the guillotine, with my head held before the crowd, my blood spilt upon the decks?
I pray, I pray for my brother and sister to guide us through this hell, to extend their hands and seek us help.
God knows, what is to happen, only God.
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