Thread: An escape from Versailles

Girard and Margeaux had been sitting on the battlement watching the sun rise together. For a few minutes of each day they could come here, be together without duties or tasks and they could hold hands and enjoy only the sun and each other. It was a chilly morning. The smell of bread baking in the ovens of the palace came wafting over the walls and Girard and Margeaux giggled and went to get breakfast. One of the benefits of working in the palace is that they had the best of everything. The bread was still hot and the butter so fresh that it melted on contact with the crusty small baguette the baker passed to them with a wink. They shared their morning bread with smiles and the occasional giggle when Margeaux smeared butter onto his cheek, playfully. He produced a handkerchief and wiped away any trace of the butter and smiled. He thought how he could steal her away from the castle on day. How he could make her his and take her away to a quiet life in the heart of Bordeaux. Together they would grow grapes, press wine and spend their evenings laughing. It was a wonderful dream, and Girard was going to make it happen. It was nearly 700, when their official duty would begin. Girard escorted Margeaux to the castle. They parted ways, with their fingertips lingering against each other until they parted ways and Girard walked back to the guesthouse. Typically his guests did not rouse until later, a pleasant side effect to the guests being allowed all the wine they could drink. Girard made his way back, greeting many of his fellow servants on his way. He would count down the hours until 700pm, where perhaps he might come upon Margeaux as though by accident on her way from the palace to the servant's quarters. Margeaux had the hardest of the jobs in the palace. Personally attending to the Ostrich as she was called outside of the castle. She was fickle, short-tempered and was inconsolable on some days. This was a byproduct of having anything she wanted. There were no challenges for Marie Antoinette, she had to but mutter the words that she wanted something and it was brought to her - usually on a silver platter. Margeaux was one of the queen's true confidants, unlike many of the other servants. Margeaux genuinely cared about Queen Antoinette, perhaps it was because they both shared Austrian descent. Margeaux's mother was from Linz whereas Marie Antoinette was from Vienna. Sometimes they would even whisper in German together, just to help madam Antoinette when she was homesick. Margeaux arrived in the servants entrance and was immediately notified that the queen requested her presence. She did not know why and was flustered as to how she could be so foolish as to not be there when she was needed. She fretted while walking, nearly running, to the personal chambers of Marie Antoinette. She checked her appearance at the door for a minute before walking in. Her dress, apron and hair were all straight. She likely had a little flush on her cheeks from walking so quickly, but that did not matter. Her hands were clean and everything seemed to be in order. She let out a sigh and walked into the room. I am told you wanted to see me, your Majesty?