Mazarin heard the King's laughter from the corridor.
It had been some time since such laughter had been heard. Ill-intentioned people often said that the Cardinal treated the King as he treated his own days. The remark was not without malice, but what they did not know was that the Cardinal truly harbored paternal feelings toward the King. Originally, he had not wished to place the burden of the kingdom upon those young shoulders so quickly. But ever since the King had repeatedly displayed the gifts of a ruler, the Cardinal had begun slowly relinquishing certain affairs—the matter of Alsace was one he had chosen. Whether the King chose to abandon Alsace, borrow money from merchants, or continue his scholarship-granting venture, Mazarin believed he had a way to bring matters to a close. Still, the King's worries and uncertainty during this time could not help but stir pity in the heart of the Cardinal Prince.
Hearing such laughter, together with the letters copied out by the spies as proof, Mazarin could now be certain that the intelligence he had received earlier was true. A trace of relief appeared on his face as well.
When the King saw Mazarin, he invited him to sit at his side. Even then, his smile had not entirely faded; the lingering traces of it finally gave the young King something of the carefree air a boy in his teens ought to have had. He directly handed the Cardinal a letter to read. It was a letter from the Duchess of Montpensier—indeed, it could be called a confession—because it described in the greatest detail, and with genuine feeling, the Duchess's pain and guilt after leaving Paris. She sincerely begged the King to forgive her and allow her to return to Paris, to the court, and to