In the real Limoges, in the real Limoges, a lady as delicate as a rose in the middle of summer was sitting at her dresser, gently biting the goose feathers from the quills with her plump lips, carefully considering the wording, and on the stationery on the table there was only one beginning - the venerable lord of the county, Montpensier, my dearest friend, my highness, your faithful little dove greets you in Limoges......

It is clear that the letter was addressed to the Duchess of Montpensier, who, though she was far away in Paris and she was still in Limoges, from the opening title and the tone of affection, showed that the relationship between the lady and the Duchess of Montpensier had gone beyond the usual general acquaintance - probably no one expected, in fact, they had only met once, and the Duchess of Montpensier had an "accident" in a salon when the Duchess of Montpensier occasionally left Paris to go to Bagnol (a spa resort) to treat her asthma Seeing her, of course, as soon as she saw her, the duchess immediately understood, after all, a stunner like her, even women have to fall for it, will never be buried for too long.

It has always been the duty of nobles and nobles to recommend beauties to His Majesty, sometimes even including cardinals, and now it is said that Marie Mancini was sent to the king by Bishop Mazarin, and that Madame Louise Lavallière was the English princess Henrietta, the Duchess of Orleans, who led her to the king in order to consolidate her position in the French court, and in this case, the Duchess of Montpensier was no exception, or rather, the vast majority of French nobles and courtiers were plotting to find a Frenchman to replace Madame de Lavallière- She is not only a foreigner, but also the maid of the princess of Orleans, and this relationship is really fearful.

The Duchess of Montpensier immediately showed kindness to her, and was even more happy when she heard that she was the daughter of the Duke of Motmar and the daughter of the Grandsine family, because the Duke of Montpensier was a branch of the Rocheshuar family, and the history of the Rocheshuar family even surpassed that of Capet, and the Grandsine was also a big family that could be traced back to five hundred years, and the Duchess confessed that she would like to see the bloodline of these two ancient families in Paris, and since then, although the Duchess of Montpensier has returned to Paris in a hurry, they have not seen each other again, but they have been corresponding。

Earlier, the envoy of the Duchess of Montpensier had sent a letter inviting her to Versailles, where she could be one of the female companions of the Duchess if she wished.

Of course she was. It could even be said that she had been longing for this invitation for twenty years.

She was the Marquise de Montespan, and before she got married, her name was Françoise Atenais de Motmar – a little earlier, she was just Atenais Vesali.

How fast time flies, Madame de Montespan sighed in her heart, twenty years ago when the day seemed to be in front of her, the young king stood before her, the distance between them was only three steps, and she wanted to touch the young man like the sun, but it was the young daughter of the family of Mancini standing beside him, she had heard the name and seen her, she was completely different from her, Marie Mancini thought that she could get what she wanted, but Artenaeus knew early on that in this world, what you want must be paid equally, no, it should be said, sometimes, even if you give, you still get nothing。

Like her biological father, Varo Vesalius.

If there is one thing that Varro Vesalius has in common with her stepfather, the Duke of Motmar, it is that they have the ambition to refuse her to enter the court, they may never have spoken, but they have the same deep understanding of her ambitions, and the Duke of Motmar is because he loves their mother so much that he will not allow her to make mistakes- The Duke of Motmar told her plainly that the king was not the kind of person who would be deceived by beauty, and that his three royal ladies, who were either recognized or not, all had political agendas or because of the value of their own talents, and that a woman of no beauty would be looked at by the king as if he were admiring a painting or a flower, but would not put her by his side.

And Varro Vesali, so to speak, was finally able to seek a position as a royal physician by the king's side, and as he got to know the king, he did not want his daughter to become another royal lady, "you have to admit it," he said in the letter, "It is of course a sad thing not to be loved by the king, but to be loved by him you will fall into utter despair - he has a heart with hair." ”

The hairy heart, this is a legend among wizards, the mother once told this story to Atenais - the protagonist of the story is a handsome and arrogant male wizard, whenever he sees someone caught in the whirlpool of love, he laughs at the other person for being a fool, and his friend says that one day, he will sink into the mire of love and marriage, the wizard is furious, and swears that he will never fall into such a predicament, so he takes out his heart and hides it in a glass cover.

From then on, he was not sad, he was not happy, he was always so sane and calm, he became stronger, richer, and almost omnipotent.

Finally one day, a beautiful witch fell in love with him, and she poured out her love to him, but he said that he would not love anyone, and he took the witch to see the heart, which was not only blackened and wrinkled, but also had beastly black hair—and the witch was not afraid, but insisted that he put it back in his chest, and did so.

But the heart had gone completely bad, and he was driven by the heart to tear open the witch's chest and bring out the fresh, bright red heart, which was so beautiful that the witch wanted to exchange it with his own heart—but his heart was resolutely unwilling, so he cut open his chest and dug out the hairy heart.

He fell on the witch's body and died.

"If that's the case," murmured Madame de Montspan, "it's not a bad thing. She inserted the quill into the inkwell, dipped it in the ink, and began to write back, she was sure to go to Paris, but even though her two fathers, as well as her husband, were qualified to meet the king, they would not bring her before him, but they did not know that she could destroy all the defenses they had set up if she wanted to, as long as she wished.

She quickly finished the letter, sprinkled some sand on it so that the ink would dry as quickly as possible, so that it would not stain itself when the letter was folded, and as she put her hand on the rattle, she prepared to take it out to her faithful servant, and at once send it to Paris, where it would be handed over to the Duchess of Montpensier.

But when the maid had just entered, a man recklessly pushed open the door, and entered, and the maid turned her back to the door, and at once quickly stuffed the letter into her own bra, and then turned and bowed, and Madame de Montespan's expression was suddenly gloomy, for it was one of her obstructions, her husband, the Marquis de Montespan.

"Why did you come to Limoges?" asked Madame de Montespan with displeasure, "shouldn't you be in Flanders?"

"I have taken leave of absence from the Marquis de Lois," the Marquis laughed grimly, "and if I don't come back, I'm going to have a funeral for my wife." ”

Madame Montespan turned, "Is such a senseless curse interesting, sir?" she looked at herself in the mirror, the witch was already aging slower than mortals, she had inherited a part of her mother's blood, and although she was twenty-seven years old this year, and had two children, she was still as delicate as a maiden, "I just want to go to Paris." Madame de Montspan did not bother to pay attention to how her husband knew, for there were many eyes and ears in the court, some for power, some for money, and some for love, and she was surrounded by her husband's eyeliner, and he knew that he had met the Duchess of Montpensier, and that there was a frequent exchange of letters between the two of them—and that it was a good time again—that Madame Lavallière was pregnant and could not serve the king, and that the Duchess of Cologna, for some reason, angered the king and was expelled from Versailles...... And because the previous king conquered Flanders and the Netherlands in a row, he will not go on another expedition in recent years, isn't it an opportunity to push newcomers?

"For I know that as soon as you enter the court, as soon as you see the king, I will lose my wife forever. The Marquis laughed dryly, and he had galloped all the way from Flanders here: "In that case, should I not mourn for my wife?"

"It seems that you have either drunk too much or have a high fever, and you are talking nonsense. Madame de Montespan said indifferently, and threw an ivory comb on the table.

"Don't go, don't leave me. ”

"You know it's impossible. Madame de Montspan said kindly, though her words pierced her husband's heart like a dagger: "When I was a child, I decided to be the king's love. ”

The Marquis stared at her, "Child, ah, child!" and he cried out in grief, "You still mention children, you have not forgotten your children, and what about you and my children?!"

"They have grown up and don't need their mothers anymore. Madame de Montespan said that she had been raised in a convent and had married the Marquis de Montespan shortly after her convent, and that she had accepted this arrangement, because the royal lady could not be an unmarried maiden, and that she had kept to herself after marriage and bore a son and a daughter to her husband, and that she thought that she had fulfilled her duty and that she should now gain her own power.

"How can you treat me like this!" the Marquis couldn't help but shout, "I am your husband!"

"A jealous husband is something to be laughed at. Madame de Montespan stood up, and perhaps she was just going to go for a walk, or to sit down on the couch by the window, but the Marquis rushed up and hugged her tightly: "Don't go!

"Don't do that, Louis," called Madame de Montespan gently, and the name of the Marquis was Louis, and when she used to call him that, his heart was full of tenderness and sweetness, but since he knew that she was calling another Louis, every time he heard the name, it was as if he had been bitten by a poisonous snake!

Madame Montespan shook her head, "Why bother, although I am not faithful, but at least honest, what about you, you are not loyal enough, you are not honest enough, you have your own lovers, why should you interfere with my love?"

"That's just ......"

"We are no different, are you worried that someone will laugh at you? You don't have to, sir, Louis XIV is your master, and you have the moral and legal right and legal duty to offer your wife to him, as a sacrifice and allegiance to the king, and of course, you can also receive power and money, which is what you deserve, as Madame Lavallière's husband was. Madame de Montespan persuaded, and just by the sight of the Marquis's face, she knew that her words had been in vain.

"If you are going to Versailles," said the Marquis, gritting his teeth, "I will go to the king in a black mourning dress and in a carriage with antlers!"

Madame de Montespan finally stopped talking, and if the Marquis did do so, he would certainly become the laughing stock of Versailles, and the king would never accept her again—the persuasion of Madame de Montespan by the two fathers was not useless, for example, Madame now knew a lot of Louis XIV's unbreakable taboos.

"I see," said Madame de Montespan, "you do not love me, you only treat me as a beautiful ornament, as a private property, and you do not allow me to go to Versailles, nor to appear before the king, because you feel that he threatens you, and you know that I will never love you, so you would rather destroy me than get what I want." ”

"If you insist on that, so you are. The Marquis said coldly.

"You can't. ”

"I can!" cried out the Marquis angrily and bitterly, "after you have done this to me, and to your benefactor!"

"Benefactor?" said Madame Montespan, raising an eyebrow.

"Isn't it? You think no one else knows? Your mother is not the daughter of Grandsigne! She is only the wife of a pharmacist, and the Duke of Motmar snatched her from her husband and made her a duchess, and she, her daughter, that is, you and your two sisters, are only the Duke's stepdaughters! You have no blood to be proud of! It is I, Madam, who have agreed to the marriage contract to give you such a high position, just because I fell in love with you as soon as I saw you!"

"Ah," to the Marquis's surprise, Madame de Montespan, instead of being annoyed or frightened, smiled mockingly, "that's what you thought." ”

"Isn't that true?"

"It is true," said Madame de Montespan, "so do you think that the king does not know that I am only the daughter of a pharmacist?"

She got up from her chair and took a step forward: "So, you say you love me in words, but your heart has been despising me," she said, and continued to take a step forward, "You therefore think that you are my benefactor, and our marriage is your reward for me," and took another step forward: "I am only a commoner's daughter in your heart, I have no noble blood in my body, and my surname is only the mercy of the Duke of Motmar," In the last step, she had almost touched the marquis's chest, and at this moment, the marquis took a step back.

Madame de Montespan chuckled, "Then why am I begging here for a little favor from you, and since you have spoken your heart, do you think you can give me more than the king?" she raised her hand and placed it on the marquis's chest, "no, you don't even have that qualification, on a par with my majesty, sir, forever, ever, ever!"

With a slight push, the Marquis fell.

He's dead.