Thread: An escape from Versailles

Waking up to another dreary morning in Versailles, Marie Antoinette had barely risen out of bed, when she had noticed, and wasn't surprised, to see her husband had already left for his duties as King of France. She felt lonely, caressing the spot where the bed sheets had the imprint of his body. She had just been married a month ago, and still wasn't used to not being able to rise every morning with her husband. Most times, she wouldn't even feel him rise, as she was a deep sleeper, and he was quiet as a mouse as he rose. Climbing out of bed, she walked toward the windows, and pushed the curtains apart, and opened the windows, feeling the fresh embrace of rain hitting her pale skin, rubbing her eyes tiredly. The rain seemed to have woken her up a bit. Lazily, she shoved her feet into a pair of slippers, and opened the doors that connected her bedroom into her own individual bathroom, beginning to splash her face with warm water, and toweling her face dry. She felt her feet lead her down the familiar path to her individual room that she had installed, filled with shoes, rows and rows of shoes, threatening to spill over onto the floor, an array of clothing, that was bursting from her many closets, and jewellery, which sat perched onto her vanity. She sat herself on the seat in front of the vanity, looking at herself in the mirror for a few seconds, before she heard the rustling, of Quickly! Quickly!, of hushed demands, of commands and quiet arguments of servants hoping that she didn't hear, as they came knocking on her door. Come in. Her hairdresser, her ladies in waiting, and a couple of servants she had gotten close to came through the door, already touching her clothes, picking up a hairbrush and running it through her thin, straw blond hair. Sometimes, when she had enough, she would tell them to leave, and that they had angered her. This usually happened when her hair was too tangled, that the brush would start to pull at loose strands, and begin to hurt her. A pale lavender dress was placed on her slender body, a necklace was hung on her neck, her hair was piled in a tight bun on top of her head, and heels were stepped into. She stared at her face in the mirror, covered up with powder, and lipstick, it was no wonder she wanted to escape her life sometimes. Every minute of every day was so meticulously planned that she felt like at the end of each day, she couldn't do anything but drop of exhaustion. The letter from her mother that sat on her vanity reminded her that she had a role to fulfill. Not to mention, she felt so alone. She hadn't found much of a connection with Louis, and of course, her mother had blamed her, that she couldn't inspire passion in her husband. They hadn't laid together since they had gotten married. She had become intimidated by her mother, that recently, she hadn't bothered opening the letter, too afraid of it's contents. Walking from her vanity to a sofa in her room, she folded her hands over her lap, and was told the agenda for today. On a good day, she would have one, two dinner parties to attend, before coming home and able to really eat, and to really enjoy herself before going to sleep. Stopping midway, she said, I'd like to see Margeaux please.