Paris: The Novel

he’s renounced the sins of the flesh, more or less.” She thought for a moment. “He visits Madame de Maintenon twice a day, which is more than she wants really, though she does her duty, as she would say. Perhaps he’s going to stray a little.”
    “But madame, what about the young lady?”
    “What about her?”
    “I mean, to be used like that …”
    “He’s the king. He can do what he wants.”
    “It’s disgraceful.”
    “Power is an aphrodisiac, both for the man who has it, and for the women who are attracted to him. It has been so since the days of Babylon. I dare say it will always be so. Women come here to be close to power, and to profit by it.”
    “But … a man who just takes whatever he wants … It’s childish, contemptible.”
    “Powerful men become like children, because they can do what they want. But it’s no good despising them. This is how things are. It’s more intelligent to work with it.” She stared at Amélie severely. “Don’t look for purity in palaces, my child. You won’t find it.”
    “But it could have been me,” Amélie protested. Her mentor did not reply.

    In the days that followed, it might have been foolish, but she couldn’t get the memory of the incident out of her mind. Nor had Madame de Saint-Loubert offered her much comfort, beyond saying that it was probably a small aberration and she doubted that the king would return to his former ways.
    As she walked down the marble halls, past the rich, dark tapestries and sumptuous pictures of the royal family dressed as classical gods, Amélie felt more and more that she had entered a huge, echoing world in which,though the cross of Our Lord was carried before the king like a trophy, it was the pitiless pagan sun god, in league with the solemn ruler of the underworld, who reigned at Versailles.
    If only she could find a way to escape.
    She had gone out into the huge formal gardens one evening, to the place where she usually met Madame de Saint-Loubert. But her friend was not there that day. She waited in the hope that she might still appear, but she did not. Still unwilling to return to the château, Amélie began to walk down a long alley.
    She was quite alone. The light was fading. The yellowed leaves that had fallen from the trees were turning to gray. It was a quiet, ghostly time. The alley was empty.
    And then, a hundred yards ahead of her, a single figure turned into the alley. It was a large, powerful man, also alone. And even in the fading light, she recognized him at once.
    It was the dauphin.
    She stopped. Hoping he would not see her, she was about to press herself against a tree at the side of the alley. But before she could, he caught sight of her.
    And then Amélie did a foolish thing. She panicked. She panicked, and began to run.
    She couldn’t help it. The memory of what she had seen the king do was too fresh in her mind. She was alone and quite defenseless. What if the dauphin behaved as his father did? What would she do? Plead her virginity? Scream? She had no idea. She ran away up the alley.
    But glancing back, she saw that he had started running too. He was large and powerful. She thought she heard him laugh. What did that mean? A laugh of amusement or of triumph? He was a large man. He was bounding along.
    She tried to increase her pace. She came to another alley on her left, rushed into it.
    And saw, facing her, not thirty feet ahead, another figure. And this one was horrifying. For if the body was that of a man, the face seemed distorted like a classical grotesque, with a split nose. In her terrified state, she screamed. Trapped between the two threats, she looked for escape, saw a curving path between hedgerows to her right, fled into it. And found herself a moment later in a dead end.
    She was panting, trembling and trying to make no sound at the sametime, as she heard, only a few yards away, the dauphin’s heavy footfall arrive and suddenly stop.
    “Monsieur de Cygne. It’s you.”
    “It is, monseigneur, at your service.”
    “Did you see a young lady just now?”
    “Certainly. But before I had the chance to introduce myself, she ran past me toward the palace.”
    “Ah. I think she thought I was chasing her.”
    “If that is the case, monseigneur, I assume that she will allow herself to be caught if you continue toward the palace.”
    “Thank you. Good night, de Cygne.”
    After this, she heard the sound of the dauphin walking swiftly away. Then silence. It seemed that the