Games and the Kitchen

Louis only saw someone dressed as a guard bow to him, but he could not see anyone that far away. Though the other man might not have been able to see him either, the young king still gave him a slight nod in thanks.

"What are you looking at?" Mali called. "Your Majesty, why aren't you playing with us?"

Today, the children had almost all remained in this largest room. It was full of sunlight and well ventilated, perfect for games and play. Though Louis still preferred reading, Queen Mother Anne would occasionally chase him out of the study and make him play games or cards. If they were still at Saint-Germain-en-Laye, Louis could at least go riding or hunting, but in Paris, all he could do was stay in his room or in that tiny courtyard, staring blankly at the fountain.

He was called the King of France, yet he was little different from a prisoner. Sometimes Louis truly wished he were really a ten-year-old child, able to cry and throw a tantrum without a care in the world.

"Come on!" Mali urged again, while Philip, the king's younger brother, kept crying, "How rude!"

Mali was perhaps the boldest girl Louis had ever seen—indeed, the bravest of all the children. Not merely because she could face werewolves without changing expression and strike back sharply, but because she plainly scorned all authority. From her uncle, Cardinal Mazarin, to King Louis and Philip, the king's younger brother, only she dared treat Louis as an ordinary person, shouting at him without the slightest restraint.

Philip had even fought her over it, but unfortunately, though they were close in age, girls always developed a step faster than boys. Thus, Philip had been the one beaten this time. Because of it, Louis had had to surrender the right to share his bed for a whole week. He had specifically had a long talk with Philip—there were many reasons why he indulged Mali. Besides her being Cardinal Mazarin's niece, Mali had once saved his life and Queen Mother Anne's, as well as the life of Philip's mother. Philip ought to feel grateful to her.

As for Mali's lack of education... Louis maliciously handed that task to Philip. Philip then earnestly took on the role of Mali's etiquette teacher. Though Mali was not at all interested, at least they had not come to blows again.

"Quiet," Louis said helplessly as he walked over. "Quiet, Mali. Your voice fills the entire room. That is not how a lady ought to behave."

"I was never a lady," Mali said. "I am a witch."

"Ah, do not say such frightening things again," Henrietta said from the side. She did not know that Mali truly was a witch, but at her age, she was destined not yet to know the true relationship between the court and Wizards. All she knew of wizards and witches came from the maids' hair-raising tales. "Witches are burned to death."

"That will not be me." Mali shrugged. "I will become a witch more powerful than any before me, just like Viviane."

"Who is Viviane?" Louis asked.

"Merlin's disciple—or you could say his lover. They say Merlin taught her every spell he knew," Mali said. "In the end, Merlin died beneath her magic as well."

"Did Merlin truly exist?" Louis said. "I had always thought he was a figure from legend."

"Perhaps." Mali spoke carelessly. "It does not matter. I say, can we begin now?"

They were playing a four-player card game. Cards had already become exquisitely made and widely used by this time, but they were still somewhat unfamiliar to Henrietta. To the Puritans of England, they were like the devil, bringing nothing but corruption, and the Church did not think much better of them. In 1397, the bishop of Paris Cathedral had forbidden people to play dice and cards on workdays. By 1541, the Parlement of Paris had also forbidden households in eastern Paris and its suburbs from playing dice and cards, mainly out of concern that they would gamble or neglect their work.

But for those at court, there was nothing better for passing the time, and they preferred gambling with dice and cards.

Since the royal family had returned to Paris, their previous straitened circumstances were no more. Although the royal property confiscated by the Parlement of Paris had not yet all been returned, the princes' and king's stakes had become entirely écus, silver coins, with a small number of gold louis. They were poured from leather pouches onto the carpet, gleaming enticingly beneath the sunlight. The eyes of the maids and attendants could scarcely turn away from them; only one little maid beside Henrietta kept her attention fixed on the Princess of England.

Henrietta's luck was still terrible today. Though she now received support from Queen Mother Anne and King Louis, whenever she thought of what had happened before, her hands and feet could not help trembling. Even knowing that Louis would return even more money in the form of gifts after the game ended, she still felt sorrowful every time she lost. "You take my place," she said to her maid. "Louise, perhaps your luck will be a little better."

The king did not object, so Henrietta exchanged places with her maid. Since they were all seated on the floor, it spared them a round of troublesome etiquette. Louise was a child easily embarrassed; after paying her respects to the king and the king's younger brother, she could no longer lift her head. Yet her luck—no, it should be said her cleverness—far surpassed people's impression of her. When the sunlight slanted westward, a small pile of écus had actually risen before her, mixed with one or two gold louis.

Henrietta was overjoyed. Though somewhat weary, she kissed Louise and seized a gold louis, pressing it into Louise's hand as a reward.

"What is for dinner?" Philip, the king's younger brother, asked, equally tired.

"Today is a fast day," Louis said. "We are having fish." By rights, a king should not know the menu like the back of his hand, but Louis was not yet permitted to involve himself in state affairs. Reading all the time became dull, and card gambling was not truly to his taste. So, to save his own taste buds and everyone else's, the kitchen had become his first battlefield—persuading those stubborn cooks had not been easy. For hundreds of years, they had insisted that fruit had to be boiled, fish had to be roasted, meat had to be stewed, and that without whole pots of cream, pounds of cheese, or handfuls of spices, a dish could not be called a dish...

No one could probably have imagined that, after becoming a king, the first enemies he faced would be cooks... But he truly did not want to eat so-called cream-stewed everything ever again...

Fortunately, after several arduous campaigns, he could finally eat the boiled fish he loved. The Cardinal and Queen Mother liked it too, though they always only tasted a little, because at this time chili peppers were still regarded as "things that stir excitement." Mazarin was a cleric sworn to chastity, and the Queen Mother was a widow; for both of them, the dish was somewhat improper.

But before the dish was served, a maid suddenly hurried to the doorway. She spoke a few words to a guard, the guard spoke a few words to Chief Steward Bontemps, Bontemps spoke a few words to the Queen Mother's maid, and the Queen Mother's maid spoke a few words to the Queen Mother... In short, Louis watched the message pass through several people before it reached him. Someone had reported that a Mr. Breland had suddenly barged into Richelieu Residence. Though he wore a guard's uniform, careful investigation revealed that no such person existed. Just as they were preparing to drive him out, Mr. Breland claimed that the king had hired him.