"Good afternoon."
Just as Pomona was leaving the study, a woman suddenly called out to her.
Here it came: women's war.
Pomona wanted to pretend she had not heard and walk away. She had never been good at this sort of sticky business, but apparently the mistress of this palace felt that she had touched a pie she had worked hard to make. Hathor had said that greedy cats had to be taught a proper lesson with a stick. There was no hiding from it.
"Merlin's beard, how much longer are you going to take, Severus?" Pomona muttered through gritted teeth. When she turned around, however, her battle-hardened foolish smile immediately appeared on her face.
It was a special skill of women.
"Good afternoon," Pomona said sweetly.
"I am Madame de Rémusat, companion to the First Lady. My husband is the First Consul's secretary, and this young lady, you are..."
"A nobody," Pomona said, picking up where Madame de Rémusat had left off. "Please do not concern yourself with my existence."
Madame de Rémusat, who looked deeply aloof and difficult to get along with at a glance, suddenly smiled.
This was another special skill of women.
"The First Lady is holding afternoon tea. Please come with me."
"Can I say no?"
Madame de Rémusat kept smiling as if Pomona had told a joke, then turned and walked ahead of her.
"Apparently not!" Pomona looked up at the ceiling of the Tuileries Palace. The paintings here were badly faded, nowhere near as splendid as those in the Louvre Museum. She did not even feel like complaining to God anymore.
The Tuileries Palace had been Marie Antoinette's final residence. After she and Louis XVI failed to escape from here, they were sent to the guillotine.
Though she had been queen in name