The noblewon's attention imdiately turned to Mada Saint-Belonne. As soon as she shared her idea for the ball, it sparked a burst of laughter and applause.
"I think it's a great idea," said Countess de Berninac, the first to voice her approval.
Queen Marie smiled and nodded. "It does sound fun. Let's do it that way this year."
The noblewon all chid in, "This year's masquerade ball is going to be wonderful!"
"Mada Saint-Belonne is so clever."
"I'm planning to dance all night."
From that day on, a new face appeared in the Prince's quarters—a striking, alluring woman who caught the eye of every man she passed. It was none other than Mada Saint-Belonne.
In the Palace of Versailles, there was already a tradition of high-ranking nobles serving the royal family. For example, the Queen often had the wives of princes and dukes assist her in dressing each morning. Although Mada Saint-Belonne wasn't of extrely high rank, she was still qualified to do small tasks in the Prince's quarters, especially after she gave so small gifts to his maids. Soon, she was a familiar presence, always just within the Prince's peripheral vision, holding a vase or a tablecloth, making sure other maids called out her na, but never directly catching the Prince's attention.
Joseph had no idea that there was a new maid around him. After all, Versailles was full of won in waiting. However, after a few days, he began to vaguely recognize her.
A week flew by, and soon it was St. Nicholas' Day.
Joseph, after much urging from the maids, reluctantly erged from his study.
Countess de Berninac, the Queen's lady-in-waiting, personally brought a long black dress over, calling all the maids to help.
Joseph's face was darker than the dress itself. If not for Countess de Berninac, who was practically the overseer of the royal household, he might have already fled Versailles.
The maids quickly removed his coat and breeches. Countess de Berninac gently slipped the black dress over his head, helping him extend his arms through the sleeves, and tightened the corset at the back of the dress.
Joseph winced in pain and quickly exclaid, "Not so tight! I can't breathe!"
"The ball is about to start, Your Highness, please cooperate a bit," Countess de Berninac said as she draped a sheer silk shawl over his shoulders and carefully placed a tall wig with feathers on his head, stepping back to admire her work. "Perfect fit," she nodded.
Joseph glanced down at the dress, wanting nothing more than to give the person who ca up with this idea a good thrashing—he had never imagined that as a straight man, he would be forced to cross-dress in the 18th century.
Yes, the the of this masquerade ball was "Gender Swap," where n dressed as won and won as n.
Joseph looked into the mirror, finding the sight unbearable, and shook his head, thinking, "The French really know how to have fun."
In reality, private parties among so nobles during this era featured much more outrageous thes, so tonight's ball was relatively ta.
Fortunately, Countess de Berninac didn't force him to wear high heels, which were not exclusively for won.
When Joseph, wearing a mask, entered the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles, the lively sound of music filled the room.
The 24 massive Bohemian crystal chandeliers on the ceiling cast a dazzling light on the hundreds of noble "n" and "won" attending the ball, who all turned their heads to look at Joseph.
The King and Queen were already present. Queen Marie, dressed in a bright red uniform with a short mustache glued above her lip, looked at Joseph and teasingly said, "You're late, young lady."
King Louis XVI was wearing a deep blue gown, holding a matching silk fan to his face, and nodded at his son with a smile.
The Chancellor, dressed as a shepherdess, stepped into the center of the Hall of Mirrors and gave a brief holiday speech, then announced the start of the ball.
The masked n and won imdiately began to dance. Almost instantly, seven or eight noble ladies in various male costus rushed over to Joseph, bowing and extending their hands. "Dear lady, may I have this dance?"
"This lady, would you care to dance with a police officer?" asked a girl dressed in the latest Parisian police uniform.
"Miss, I was the first to ask you."
"Lovely lady, please dance with …"
Although Joseph was wearing a mask, it was clear that these won had recognized him imdiately.
According to court etiquette, during a ball, only those of higher status could invite those of lower status to dance, and the reverse was prohibited. Additionally, it was usually the gentlen who invited the ladies to dance, but today's the was a gender swap. These noblewon saw this as their golden opportunity and eagerly flocked to the Prince.
Finally, a strong "coachman" managed to push aside the other girls, grabbed the still-confused Joseph by the hand, dragged him to the center of the dance floor, and cleared her throat loudly, "Ahem!"
She must have arranged this in advance because the surrounding nobles imdiately stopped and gathered around them.
The "coachman" asked softly, "Dear lady, which dance would you like to perform?"
Joseph felt so embarrassed that he wanted to disappear, but seeing the expectant eyes around him, he could only sigh and say, "The Sarabande."
"As you wish." The "coachman" signaled to the musicians, and Bach's dance music began to play.
Joseph was pulled into the dance. He had only been learning court dances for about a month, so he was clumsy and awkward.
The musicians, watching the Prince's feet closely, desperately tried to match their accompanint to his steps, but it was obviously a difficult task.
If they had known the term "Brownian motion," they would have used it to describe the Prince's dancing.
Soon enough, Joseph stepped on the "coachman's" foot three tis and even elbowed her once…
Taking advantage of the "coachman" rubbing her shoulder, the girl dressed as a police officer stepped in and took Joseph's hand. "Lovely lady, which dance would you like?"
"The Sarabande."
Joseph had no choice—he only knew one dance.
The music started again, and they danced, but soon the "police officer" gave up and was replaced by a "cavalry officer." "Which dance would you like?"
Joseph sighed, "The Sarabande."
And so, he spent nearly an hour dancing the Sarabande. The noble ladies were exhausted by his poor dancing, but they persevered, eager to dance with the Prince.
In the corner, Mada Saint-Belonne, dressed as a scholar, watched in frustration as a large group of young girls surrounded the Prince. She angrily squeezed the book Descartes' Geotry in her hands.
This ball had been her idea, ant to give her a chance to charm the Prince, but now she couldn't even get close to him—the other noblewon were too strong!
She suddenly threw the geotry book aside and smiled disdainfully. "Hmph! Is that all they've got? And they think they can compete with ?"
She asked a servant for pen and paper, thought for a mont, quickly wrote a note, handed it to Viscount Vallace, and then signaled to Joseph.
Finally, after Joseph had changed dance partners for the tenth ti, Perna, who had been quietly watching him, saw the exhaustion on his face and couldn't bear it any longer. She stepped forward and gently pushed aside the "woodcutter" who was about to invite him to dance.
"His Highness's pneumonia hasn't fully healed; he shouldn't be exercising for so long."
"Ah! She's right!" Joseph felt like he was hearing angels sing. At that mont, Perna seed like a saint, radiating a holy light.
He gratefully nodded at her and hurriedly squeezed out of the crowd.
Friends, if you want to read chapters in advance, subscribe to my patreon.
You can also buy the book if you are only interested in reading the novel
User Comments
0 comments from readers