Kitabı oku: «Revelation by Elohim. The Mystery of Diana de’Poitier», sayfa 2
Little prisoners
Paris, Paris!
How many minds and hearts are thrown at your feet!
How many hearts have you broken!
With its mysterious, heady beauty!
Like a fatal beauty, heady, dangerous, beautiful and mysterious. Calling like an oasis in the desert
Insidious and capricious, in its contradiction.
Calling and repulsive, like a temptress woman. Heart of the world, with the soul of a woman playing with the hearts and lives of her admirers!
So close and earthly, but always so distant, like a star beckoning in the sky!
King of France Francis 1 lost the war to the Spanish monarch. France lost to Spain. Francis, having experienced the bitterness of defeat, being himself twice wounded, was captured. But, negotiations were underway to release the king. Francis signed the Madrid Treaty that dismembered France. But, the king was not going to fulfill his obligations. Except for one thing, to give your sons hostage. Dauphin Francis and his brother Henry the Duke of Orleans. And so, on March 17, the French court, knightly at that time, did not lead the secular, riotous life adopted later. Quite modestly, he gathered in the castle, on the banks of the Bidasson River, where the ceremony of handing over the princes, hostages of Spain, was to take place. They were to be exchanged for the monarch of the state.
This morning the court gathered just to escort the princes into exile, into captivity. It was a foggy, gray morning and the de Brese couple were also present at this farewell departure of the little princes. The entire courtyard gathered in the semi-dark hall of the castle, awaiting the appearance of the princes.
And so they arrived. Announced: «His Highness Dauphin Francis Duke of Breton»! «His brother, Prince Heinrich, Duke of Orleans»! The entire court fell silent, awaiting the arrival of the princes. The door finally opened and two boys entered the hall. The princes were still quite children. The heir to the throne, Francis, was eight years old, and his brother Henry was barely seven years old. The heir to the throne was a blond child with beautiful white curls of hair. The eyes, which, already now, were filled with their own significance. His chin was lifted up proudly.
The entire court bowed to the future king. He responded with a slight nod of his head. His expensive robes with ruffles and bows sparkled with jewels. The feather on the hat bounced upward from his confident step. He paused importantly in the middle of the room.
All the nobles began to approach the prince in turn, welcoming and wishing a successful sailing and a speedy return. The boy nodded back dryly and with dignity. His brother, little Heinrich, was still a child. The two brothers were incredibly even strikingly different from each other, like day and night. And this was undoubtedly the most correct comparison.
Heinrich was a swarthy, black-haired, thin boy with thin legs and protruding knees and large eyes, incredibly black, like a dark lake. He was dressed relatively simply in comparison with his brother. Poitiers greeted the heir to the French crown, like the others, and stepped aside to make way for the others. Her husband found a group of men and talked about something with them, leaving Diana alone. She stood and looked at this blond child, but already almost the king and understood that these unfortunate children were going to distant Spain as captives and might not return. And suddenly she noticed little Heinrich. He stood aside quietly and alone. His face was frowned. He tried to be brave, but fear was clearly visible in his eyes. Her heart sank. She realized that Heinrich was simply forgotten. After all, he is only the second son of the king. Nobody came up and greeted him. No one wished him a good sail. Nobody cheered, hoping for a quick return. She felt so sorry for the unfortunate child that in this outburst of compassion she went to him through the crowd. She came up to him, squatting in a curtsy and greeted him. The child shuddered and looked at her in dismay. But, after a minute, he made a serious face and nodded importantly in response to her greeting. And suddenly she was seized with such compassion and pity for this abandoned, forgotten child that tears welled up in her eyes. And forgetting about all decency, she knelt down and hugged the boy to her, hugging him.
You’re scared, I know. She said softly to him, holding his shoulders. It seemed that the boy was about to cry. But, he held back his tears, and only slightly sobbed, looking at her. She continued.
Don’t be afraid! Nothing will happen to you! I promise you!
You must be strong! Do you hear me?
I will pray for you!
Know that there is a heart here in France that prays for you and your return.
The boy stopped sniffing and calmed down. Hope and faith in her words lit up in the children’s eyes. It seems that his fear has really disappeared. She got up from her knees and again crouched down in a curtsy away from him. The boy became serious again.
The princes were seated in the boat, and she slowly began to disappear into the fog, carrying them into the unknown. Diana and the entire courtyard stood on the shore. She raised her hand and waved goodbye to them. Male
Freedom
Black clouds are hanging over the de Brese estate. A cold, gray morning slipped from the sky like a drizzling rain. Making the world around us dull gray. The priest continued to speak over the cold, black burial hole in the de Brese family crypt. Finally, he finished his speech. The black hole with the body of the count was covered with a gravestone with a grinding noise. As if it had been swallowed by the toothless mouth of a monster. Diana stood over her husband’s grave. She was dressed in black mourning clothes and from this her already white face seemed almost unnaturally white. She gazed silently at the grave. The smell of the damp earth of the crypt, mixed with the smell of musty and dead body, hit my nose. It was the smell of death. Her daughters stood by. People pushed the stone, hiding the body of the count forever. The farewell of the living to the dead was over. She and her daughters returned to her mansion. The count’s funeral was completely exhausted by her constant visits and condolences. She was so tired that she collapsed into a chair by the fireplace. Her gaze involuntarily settled on the door. And suddenly, she understood. He will never go through this door again! Her husband is dead! And now she is a widow. She thought.
And then another thought rushed into her head.
No! She is not a widow! She is free! Free! From eternal humiliation. From his presence. From the smell of it in my bed. From his eternal discontent. She is free! The thought burned through the brain.
Free! As if reveling in the thought, she thought.
And the heart suddenly shuddered with joy for many years for the first time and unexpectedly for herself, revived. Her eyes suddenly flashed with fire, sparkled and lit up with life. As if she had been dead until that day. She abruptly got up from the chair in which she was sitting and almost ran to the window, throwing it wide open with a sharp movement. Fresh air burst into the room, outside the window was the same gloomy weather, it was damp, and it was drizzling with rain. She smelled the smell of rain mixed with the smell of wet earth and breathed in this life-giving scent deeply, closing her eyes in pleasure. She whispered delightedly, as if she had seen this world for the first time.
What a delightful day!
A smile lit up her face for a long time. Another thought came, replacing delight.
I’ll put up a monument! From a big, heavy stone! She smiled wider. Not noticing that he is speaking out loud.
I’ll erect a monument for you, Monsieur de Brese!
And I hope its weight will crush your bones in your crypt!
She almost cried out and her eyebrows came together menacingly on the bridge of her nose. And a picture from the past appeared before her eyes. As if it was only yesterday, and his voice is cutting, like a knife through her heart, with every word the count said.
How lucky you are, dear. You are now Countess de Brese. Her eyes flashed with fire. Excited by the memory, she continued to speak aloud.
I’ll put up a monument for you!
To make sure that if you want to get out of there, he will block your way! She finished contemptuously.
It will be very big! She added. Having finished his involuntary speech, and not noticing that he is speaking aloud to himself. Sighing with even greater pleasure deeply the scent of a chilly day.
The monument was surprisingly very large and heavy, it was hardly erected. When the workers finished with the installation, she let them go and was left alone at the count’s grave.
She spoke quietly, her appeal was to the count. As if the deceased count could hear her.
Hope you like your monument?
I hope monsieur! She added with a furrowed brow and sparkling eyes in a barely audible, trembling voice.
I hope he crushes you in your crypt! If you suddenly intend to get out of there, then this block will close your way!
A nervous shiver went through her, and her breathing became ragged with hatred for him. She began to breathe heavily, her lips tightened and turned blue. And the fists clenched and dug their nails into the meat. And suddenly, in a fit of deep hatred for him. She couldn’t help herself and spat on his grave.
That’s all you deserve from me! She cried out, straightening up. As if she finally got up from her knees over the years. And exhaling with relief, she added calmly and contemptuously.
This is all you deserve from the unworthy of you, Monsieur de Brise!
Hope you get devoured by worms!
She shot her gaze like a dagger at the monument. As if checking once again at the end, whether it is so strong and great. And making sure that this is so, proudly throwing her chin up, she turned sharply and walked firmly away. She never looked back.
Now sorting out her affairs, Poitiers realized that her husband had left her and her children nothing! He not only left them no funds, but also left exorbitant debts! Having laid the same and their estate. Everything was lost to them in gambling. The amounts of the debt were large and if it is not paid, then she and her children may simply lose everything. Including the estate. She was sitting in the office on the table and on the floor there were invoices, debt papers and papers on the estate pledged for debts. She couldn’t believe it. She sat silently resting her head on her hand. Things were nowhere worse.
What should she do?!
Where will she go after losing her estate?!
Where will her children be?!
What will happen to them?!
Despite the cold to her daughters, she still loved them. Always trying to take care of them, give them proper education and upbringing.
And most of all she was worried about the fact that having lost the estate, the girls will not be able to sanctify a good marriage party.
God! Who will need them?! Poitiers thought in despair.
Who will marry them?! If the world learns about their almost complete bankruptcy!
Besides, the poor things weren’t pretty anyway.
Among other problems with the estate, dark clouds soon thickened over her beloved father. He was accused of conspiracy and, along with other conspirators, was imprisoned. He could face execution. But, the full accusation had not yet been brought forward, which means there was hope.
She sat gloomy and lonely in the office, once again looking at the papers. As if desperately hoping to find a way out, hoping for a miracle.
What should I do?! Oh my God! She escaped desperately. The situation seemed hopeless. She was completely desperate. Putting her head in her hands, she sat there without moving and staring at one point. How long she sat like that, she did not know, but suddenly she shuddered. She was seized with anger at herself for her weakness and inaction.
Something needs to be done!
We must go to Paris! Suddenly she spoke out loud, talking to herself.
To Paris, to the king!
No one else can help me, only the king! She finished resolutely.
But, the question arose. How? And then, she remembered. She decided to seek help from a lady. She remembered that this lady was a noble, but long impoverished family and therefore was attached to the retinue of one incredibly wealthy and noble 60-year-old widow. With a high rank and an equally large pocket. Who with all her might tried to rejuvenate and spent a lot of money on outfits, blush and jewelry. And she gathered around her a lot of noblewomen in her retinue, thereby showing everyone her high position. They, for a certain fee, showed her their admiration and did not skimp on flattering praise. The widow loved to be in society and at court. Poitiers immediately wrote a letter to her friend asking her to recommend her for a place in the retinue. The answer came quickly. The answer was: «That Poitiers may soon arrive and will undoubtedly be the adornment of the retinue and the widow will gladly accept her.» Then there were other secular news and courtesies. The letter ended with the fact that she would be eagerly awaited. Leaving orders at the estate, Poitiers left after a few days and was accepted for her new place for weeks.
The widow turned out to be a plump little 60-year-old woman with overly rosy cheeks, the reason for which was the widow’s very great passion for blush and an equally great predominance of powder.
Why her face was white as a sheet. In all her strange appearance and image, she resembled an owl hung with jewels. She had a special passion and love for them, hanging herself with them so wastefully that she resembled a Christmas tree.
Once, having stayed with one of the ladies of the widow’s retinue in the old lady’s room, the girls saw a beautiful necklace with diamonds on the dressing table of an elderly lady. The stones were of amazing beauty and purity. Sunlight fell on the beautiful stones, and they sparkled with thousands of lights. The girl who was with Poitiers gasped with delight! She said with admiration, addressing Diana.
My God! Darling, look what a delightful beauty! God! What shine!
They cost a fortune!
She did not take her admiring eyes off the stones. Poitiers looked at the stones, sparkling in the sun, and suddenly the wrinkled neck of the widow, turning into an equally wrinkled face, and diamonds hanging from that old withered neck appeared in front of her eyes. And the diamonds suddenly faded in her eyes and went out. She simply answered.
My dear, their brilliance does not disturb my heart.
She smiled at the girl, who raised her eyebrows in surprise.
You are definitely a strange woman! She answered. Not believing Diana.
God! Do you really care! She said, puzzled.
Poitier just smiled back at her.
And now, finally, what happened to her came to the widow’s estate. They are leaving for Paris!
Chapter 2
Paris
Paris
The era changes the era and the court no longer lead the puritanical life that it had before. The current courtyard was different. Fun and carelessness reigned everywhere. Morals have also become different. Husbands easily got mistresses, and wives were not inferior to them in this either. Carelessness was everywhere in dress, manners, poetry and paintings.
So the Countess de Brese was leaving for Paris. Hoping to meet the king. And, since the king was known as a lover of women and did not miss simply not one pretty, new lady who appeared at the court. That meeting with him was not so difficult.
So, she’s on her way to Paris. She is still young and beautiful, and she knew for sure that she was not going to Paris, but to the king. Because only the king could help her rescue her father from prison and pardon her from imminent execution, as well as save her from almost complete bankruptcy. She got into the carriage and they started. She sighed with sadness, thinking how far and possibly for a long time she would leave her beloved Dauphine.
And now, finally! He appeared before her eyes! Conqueror of hearts, eternal heartthrob, Paris!
Their carriage was driving along the stone, wide pavement. It was noisy and crowded around. The carriages, passers-by, everything seemed to be intertwined and mixed. Richly dressed ladies and gentlemen. Scurrying in different directions Parisian tomboy boys. Various small shops and elegant, richly decorated, expensive shops. And, also, all kinds of eateries and bakeries. From which the smell of freshly baked bread hung in the air. The girls from the noble widow’s retinue stuck their lovely heads out of the carriage windows with delight and delight, absorbing the Parisian bustle. Some young and handsome officer in military uniform, riding a gallant stallion, smiled at them and blew a kiss. The ladies smiled coquettishly. Poitiers raised an eyebrow and leaned back into the carriage.
However! What audacity! She thought, but one corner of her lips treacherously crept up. And she imperceptibly smiled only at them. Noticing to myself, however, that the officer, nevertheless, is very handsome.
They stayed at the Parisian home of a godly widow. The admission to the court was supposed to take place the next day. They will go to the royal palace, which was the funniest and most beautiful place in all of France.
The next day has come and here the king’s palace opened before her amazed gaze. The palace was surrounded by a beautiful garden, it smelled fragrant and bloomed with thousands of flowers, rustled and sparkled in the sun with rainbows from beautiful fountains, rustled with many voices, cheerfully laughing flirtatious ladies and their gentlemen amused. Everything mixed into a single music along with the singing of birds. The garden around the palace was full of beautifully dressed people. The festive, main entrance to the residence was framed by gilded gates, like a gateway to heaven itself on earth. Graceful carriages, drawn by magnificent horses, drove up one after another. Poitiers lowered her little foot to the ground and climbed down from the carriage. Unexpectedly for her, she suddenly smiled, so beautiful was the picture that appeared before her. Everything sparkled and shone in the sun with incredible colors. Her gaze rested on the fragile, as it seemed structure, the royal palace. And she was so delighted with his beauty that she froze for a moment. The palace was so graceful that it seemed to be made not of stone, but of an air cloud. He seemed to be hovering over a beautiful garden. He was so airy and graceful. The ladies from the retinue surrounded the widow and, in a noisy flock of chirping birds, went along the path to the park of the palace. Expressing your delight with noisy sighs and cheerful laughter. The park was full of beautiful ladies dressed in the latest fashion. Flashing with jewels and smiles, they were laughing merrily at something. What their equally well-dressed gentlemen told them stormily. And over all this, careless fun reigned. Seeing this entire splendor. Diana suddenly realized that her outfit from her meager wardrobe had long gone out of fashion. It was her widow’s dress, the only new black dress. It was too puritanical and constrained, and the neckline was not as deep as the current fashionistas wore. And her whole appearance was too constrained in comparison with the current fashion. The headdress turned out to be also modest, in comparison with the headdresses of the court ladies decorated with stones and beautiful feathers. Poitiers involuntarily became sad from these thoughts and her attire darker than the night. She seemed to fall out in such sad attire from this cheerful society full of fun, carelessness and laughter. In addition, in her own Dauphin, she did not wear headdresses at all. But, in Paris, it would be considered bad form, and she would undoubtedly be called for her eyes, a redneck. Therefore, she put on a headdress. But, he terribly interfered with her and did not want to stay on her head at all. She had to correct him every now and then so that he would not fly off her head. Upset by the fact that she does not fit into today’s society. Her sadness was replaced by anger. She furrowed her brows in anger at herself and at her momentary weakness. She forgot why she came here?! Intoxicated with the fun here! A picture of her beloved father in a damp dungeon appeared before her eyes, and she frowned even more, stamping her foot in her hearts!
What do I care about these stupid feathers, lace and outfits! She thought evil.
After all, I can always refer to my position as a widow.
And a widow shouldn’t flaunt her discharged clothes! She thought.
Further, whatever it was, she continued her thoughts and frowned even more.
I will still procure a pardon from the king for my father and forgiveness of my debts for the estate.
Will I wear those stupid feathers? Angry, she thought.
Or in this black widow’s dress.
I don’t care!
And she really stamped her foot heavily, exhaling and snorting contemptuously, like a horse coming first to the finish line. Throwing her chin up proudly, her walked slowly and confidently to the other ladies.
Not today, then tomorrow. She thought.
I will definitely meet the king!
He was not very tall, dressed in a suit of bows and ruffles, studded with jewelry. Protruding abdomen and crooked legs. And a smile that did not seem to disappear from his face, especially if there are beautiful ladies nearby! An old widow saw the king from afar. He was surrounded by a large retinue, which consisted mostly of pretty ladies. The noble widow, bustling and jumping up, hurried to the king. Waddling on her small and clumsy legs, clattering rings and other jewelry, which, as always, she was wearing in excess. Her ladies followed her. Approaching the king, she stopped and sat awkwardly in a deep curtsy to greet the king. Her ladies followed her example. The king smiled warmly and asked.
Madam, where have you been? I haven’t seen you for a long time? He said. And without waiting for her answer, he began to examine the widow’s retinue with interest. He passed appraising, almost like a cat’s gaze at the sight of sour cream at the ladies from the suite. And each of them, smiling, lowered her eyes, flirtatiously exposing her charms and squatting in an elegant curtsy. And so, his gaze fell on Poitiers. He already wanted to pass them on to the remaining ladies. But, Poitiers did not lower her eyes and did not rush to squat in a curtsy, keeping a pause. She glared at the king’s eyes like invisible pincers. He was surprised at such, almost insolence, and slightly raised an eyebrow. Her eyes, dark as lakes, grabbed him, not letting go. A minute passed, or just a moment, but the king did not take his eyes off her. And suddenly a slight smile lit up her face, illuminating her face with a beautiful light. And as if remembering, she slowly lowered her eyes, and gracefully sat down in a curtsy. Skillfully exposing her white, thin neck. Transforming into a seductive chest shape, this, unfortunately for the king, was hidden behind the fabric of the dress. And only his imagination completed this picture. Diana raised her eyes, waving her black, like fluttering butterflies, eyelashes. And, as if bashfully, she glanced again at the king. Hidden fire flashed in her eyes. She wanted to put them down again, but the king had already stepped towards her to meet!
Stand up, my dear, he said. Looking at her with interest. He held out his hand to her, and she rose from her curtsy.
What’s your name? The sweetest creature.
This is Madame de Brese. An old widow intervened. Proud that her lady aroused such interest from the king.
This is my new lady, your majesty. She continued.
The poor thing was recently widowed. Added an old lady.
Ah, said the king.
What sadness, madam.
Now it’s clear why you’re in black.
He smiled with satisfaction. He was not at all saddened by the news of the deceased husband of a beautiful lady, by no means, on the contrary. He again looked at her not deep cleavage and white neck. Already anticipating and seeing these delights in my bed. She lowered her eyes again, feigning embarrassment. But, at all, not embarrassed in the depths of the soul. She went to the king and here she is! Her cold head, at times, did not know embarrassment. Diana was a whole person. And she knew exactly why she was here and what for! Everything else was great game! And Poitiers performed this role superbly! Excellent reading in the souls of people. She always had this talent, almost mystical, to see through everyone. So now, she saw right through the king and made a challenge to him. This monarch, spoiled by female attention, was so oversaturated with beauties in his own bed that simply beauty was not enough for him. Even the beauty of such a beauty as Poitiers. She made a kind of challenge to the king. Remaining to stand, as if equal to him, and not bowing to the king at the first minute. And he undoubtedly noticed it. He undoubtedly saw the challenge in her burning eyes. And it was a risk! The king could be annoyed by this behavior. And, kings, as you know, not only pardon, but also execute! She could fall into no mercy, and lose her last hope for the salvation of her father and the salvation of her estate. But, Poitiers took a chance! And she won! She saw it in his eyes right now! The king was captivated by her beauty and courage, he was simply fascinated by her. Walking his eyes over her body, as if exposing her, he remained very pleased with his assessment.
After kissing her hand for a meaningful long time. Showing her and everyone present his interest. Diana met his eyes again, completing her result, bewitching the king. Fire flashed in her eyes again. As if lights were dancing in them, and pleasant goosebumps ran over Francis’s skin, promising a quick meeting. Having said goodbye to her, the old widow and her ladies, he withdrew, surrounded by his retinue.
Confusion lay in the royal chambers. The king stood naked, erect, importantly, on his crooked legs and looked out the window. Poitiers has been the king’s favorite for some time.
Ah, what a day!
What a wonderful day! He was chanting, almost jumping up and down with good spirits.
She looked at him. And she felt funny.
Here he is, the king! The man who ruled all of France! A little funny, not tall with a round bulging tummy on crooked little legs. He looked like a lazy house cat. Yes! Diana thought. This is the king! She smiled.
Who would have thought!
The most powerful man in the country! Freeing her father and writing off her debts!
Returning her estate to her, this cost him absolutely nothing. He looked more like Santa Claus, always cheerful and carefree like Francis. So Poitiers thought as she looked at the king
And in the morning there is a thick wallet on the table. He sat next to me and waved his leg contentedly.
Darling, this is a trinket for you. Dresses and pebbles, which women you are very fond of, as far as I know. He said good-naturedly. And after kissing her, singing something under his breath, he went out with his cheerful, almost jumping, gait. Her face, always so white, was covered in purple paint. She stared silently at the purse like an ugly snake. He left her this money on the table, like the last slut in France!
The color on my face changed to pallor. He also hinted to her that her dress was too dark for her new status as a favorite. Her heart sank with resentment and hurt pride.
Well, okay, your majesty! Thought Poitiers.
I will take your advice and your money.
Offended by his words, hinting at her inappropriate outfit for the king’s favorite, she went for a new outfit. And she acquired all the best and most expensive that she found in Paris. However, she did not abandon her idea of a widow. And she acquired a dress of dark blue color, the color of a gloomy fierce sea or a sea storm. And for the dress, the finest headdress, in the latest fashion, with beautiful stones and feathers. Also gloves and shoes that were in the same color as the dress. Wearing all this, she proudly threw her chin up, looking at her reflection in the mirror. A woman so gorgeous was looking at her from there that she caught her breath.
A white, thin neck, deep seductive neckline, seductively emphasized a beautiful rounded and lush breast. Sloping marble shoulders, an incredibly thin corset waist. The fluffy hem of the dress fell down from the waist, like a beautiful, sparkling waterfall of flounces and ruffles. The long hem of her dress enveloped her figure, as if the waves of a stormy sea were enveloping a beautiful statue. She gasped at her own reflection.
Having experienced an almost awe-inspiring bliss from the realization of one’s own beauty! She put on a headdress and gloves, and her image was completely complete. The headpiece was studded with beautiful stones and blue iridescent feathers, and the look was completed with beautiful sapphire earrings that made her white face even whiter, as if it were made of beautiful marble.
Her eyes sparkled like stars in the sky. Once again, looking at herself in the mirror, she proudly threw her head up. She was great and she knew it!
Yes, Your Majesty, I followed your advice!
And she had to admit that she was even grateful to him for it now!
The war between the two ladies
But, their relationship was not long. Francis was very careless, and Poitiers was too cold, he thought. And if at first, he liked it. Then, in the end, not being a man of deep thoughts and feelings, this cold beauty of Poitiers simply bored him. Being a lover of women, he quickly cooled down towards Poitiers.
One day, while walking with her through the avenues of the palace, he told her.
My dear, how beautiful you are.
You are undoubtedly a fragrant, blossoming rose.
But, I picked such a beautiful, unopened bud!
That I am incredibly captivated by his scent.
I hope you will forgive me for such weakness and rightly you will not be angry. He finished smiling, pleased with his poetic comparisons and with himself.
After kissing her hand, he walked away. He was still humming to himself, out of habit. She, of course, understood everything! With these words, the king told her that he had found a new lady, whom he was carried away once again. He undoubtedly offended Poitiers very much, calling her in a poetic form older than his new passion, comparing it with a blossoming rose, and a new passion with a bud. Saying at the same time that his new passion is younger than Poitiers.