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She froze in horror.
Oh my god! She was scared.
She climbs with her hand in the grass, and there is no glove on her hand!
It was all the height of indecency!
Unworthy behavior of a lady of her position!
And now they’ll definitely call her a redneck!
And the vile de Tamp will write another vile pamphlet. This is undoubtedly! Diana thought about all this, frightened. She slowly and not boldly turned her head to the voice, remaining to sit over the flower bed. And she saw a handsome young man towering over her. He was a little dark and dark-haired. He looked at her with attentive eyes, black as night. He was dressed relatively simply, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps this young man came with someone’s retinue. Accompany some noble and wealthy courtier. So with de Tamp, he may not know. He smiled sweetly at her when he saw her frightened and confused look. She answered him awkwardly with an embarrassed smile.
He repeated the question.
Madam, have you lost something?
Oh, she replied, naively.
Pebbles fell off my headdress.
I tugged at it awkwardly and they fell into the grass. She finished naively, smiling wider at him.
Can I help you? He simply answered. And without waiting for her answer, he sat down next to her, began to diligently collect pebbles, swarming in the grass.
Seems like everything. He said, handing her all the pebbles he had collected.
She held out her little dirt-stained pen. Businesslike before this, brushing off his soiled hand on his other hand. He silently watched her actions. Seeing this, his eyebrows went up slowly. She smiled at him even wider and took the pebbles, busily putting them in a bag and putting on gloves, as if nothing had happened.
Oh! Thank God! Poitiers thought. It turned out to be this sweet young man, and not someone else. And nobody will know anything!
What are you doing here? She began the conversation with a question, so as not to be silly not to be silent.
I write poetry. Simple, he replied.
Poems? Poitiers was surprised, looking at the young man with interest and more closely.
What about you? He answered, question to question.
I haven’t seen you here before.
However, I only recently returned, he added.
You must have appeared in my absence.
She looked at him with interest.
So you’ve been at court long enough? Here in Paris? She asked the following question.
Well, you could say long enough. Smiling, he answered.
Oh yes, and how do you find it here? She asked.
He put on a sour expression, smiling. The answer is simple.
Pretty boring.
She laughed loudly.
You’re joking right!
You’re bored in the funniest place in all of France!
He gave her a big smile, enjoying her amusement.
So you write poetry? She continued.
Yes, he replied. Suddenly becoming serious.
Would you like to read it to you? He asked suddenly.
Yes, of course, Poitiers answered with interest.
He read the verse. It was about a butterfly and a rose. Diana listened intently to him. He finished reading.
Well, how do you like it? He asked. You like?
Yes, she answered honestly. You definitely have a good syllable.
But I think they seem to be missing something. Something I think is important. She added, thoughtfully.
What then? He asked with interest.
She continued just as thoughtfully, looking into the distance.
You see a flower and a butterfly, its gentle flutter. But, you don’t look further, deeper. To the very depth.
A month will pass and the rose will wither. And this butterfly will also die, its time is short. She spoke, still thoughtfully. Moving your gaze to the beautiful rose. She was silent, for a moment, and as if breathing air with a slight smile, she added.
But, the next year will come and the rose will be reborn and bloom. And the butterfly will also flutter over the rose. She finished speaking. I looked him straight in the eyes; they were the depth of the ocean. I would say this:
«Two roses will lie at the foot of the marble.
Butterflies will fly up to them carelessly.
Is it too early for us to despair?
We will be forever»!
She finished smiling. Her eyes seemed to sparkle with genuine joy. The young man looked at her with his black, pensive eyes and was silent. He was very serious. Finally, he spoke. Slowly not taking his eyes off her.
Yes, you’re right. I think I understand. Something was really missing.
She suddenly remembered that she had to go a long time ago. Find the old widow, in whose retinue she was still a member. She completely forgot about her, carried away by a conversation with a young man.
Forgive me, but I need to leave you. She told him.
I’ll show you. The young man answered.
She said she seemed to be lost and could not find the old widow she was a member of. She said the lady’s name and he laughed.
Ah, this is that old owl-like lady who loves jewelry so much. He said smiling.
She laughed heartily, amused.
So you noticed the similarities too. She sang in her beautiful voice, continuing to laugh. And this is exactly what Poitiers called the old widow.
Yes, he replied, laughing in turn. Getting infected with her laughter and fun.
I think I saw her. Come, I will take you, if you will, and he gallantly offered her his hand.
And they walked slowly down the alley, talking about poetry. Diana suddenly saw the hated Mademoiselle de Tamp. Diana stopped and her brows slowly drew together on the bridge of her nose. He also stopped, looking in the direction of Poitiers, that is, at de Tamp. She turned her head and looked at him and suddenly asked.
Don’t you find this lady very beautiful?
He looked at her and answered calmly.
It seems to me that her corset is too tight and she will even faint, so she probably abuses blush so as not to give out the pallor of her face.
There is nothing interesting in this lady for me. He replied, looking at Diana smiling.
I think the fairest lady of all the fairest is standing next to me right now. He smiled at her again.
She looked at him suspiciously. Trying to look into his very soul, into his eyes black as night, suspecting him of flattery. But, he looked at her with an honest and open look. He really seemed to say what he thought.
Oh, what a nice young man he is! Thoughts jumped in Poitiers’ head, joyfully.
She was ready to kiss him on both cheeks. She smiled at him sincerely. He reached out again and offered his hand to her. They continued on their way down the alley, when in the distance she recognized the silhouette of the old widow. They headed towards her, where she stood surrounded by her ladies. Poitiers suddenly remembered.
Oh my god! We didn’t even introduce ourselves. And she smiled at him apologetically.
Diana. Diana de Brese.
Yes, I know. He answered with a smile.
Heinrich, madam, at your service.
You know?! She was surprised.
But, I didn’t have time to say anything else, as they almost approached the standing ladies. He did not have time to fully introduce himself. They were interrupted by an old widow who saw them and quickly walked towards them. She was already next to them, out of breath. She stopped next to them, froze for a moment in place and, as if recollecting herself, sat down in a deep curtsy, greeting Diana’s companion. Her ladies followed her example. Poitiers was taken aback by surprise. After all, only kings and all the offspring of royal blood are greeted with a deep curtsy. Heinrich smiled at the ladies with his sweet smile and answered them with a bow of his head, greeting them.
Madam, what a pleasure to see you here again. He turned to the old lady.
I have brought your seemingly lost lady to you.
Ah, thanks! I didn’t think Madame de Brese was lost. The old widow answered.
Always at your service, madam. Heinrich answered.
With your permission, I have to leave you now. Heinrich said to the widow.
Saying goodbye to her and the ladies nodding his head gallantly. He looked at Diana, smiling at her. He kissed her hand goodbye, barely touching her thin skin with his lips.
I hope we’ll see you soon. And let’s talk again about poetry. I’ll look forward to it, he told her.
She smiled back at him in utter confusion. Still not understanding the old widow’s behavior, and surprised by her venerable curtsy. He said a couple more pleasantries to the old widow, turned around and walked slowly away, leaving. Diana stood, still not understanding what had happened. She was completely confused and asked, finally, coming out of her stupor, from a lady standing next to her.
Explain to me if you please. Who owned all these curtsies, and in whose honor are they?
Who is he?
God! Expensive! The lady answered.
Do you know who was seeing you off?!
This is Prince Henry de Valois, Duke of Orleans!
She sang dreamily.
Ah! How can you, however, get lost!
And then, pouting her lips, she sighed enviously, looking after the retreating prince.
How I wish they could find me that way too! The lady sighed.
Obviously upset that she wasn’t lost.
Prince! Poitiers thought in horror.
Remembering how she climbed with her bare hand without a glove in the grass.
What a horror!
She turned pale. Some time ago, she was sure that she was lucky. That this shame of her was seen by this sweet young man, and not by someone else. But, already now she was ready to burst into tears. Because he turned out to be a prince! It couldn’t have been worse. She almost sobbed out loud, trying not to cry. She looked completely dejected and even unhappy. It was so strange to see, so clearly not joyful her face, the lady, with envy, looked in her direction.
Henry, Duke of Orleans! She thought.
And suddenly another picture from the past came to mind. Little frightened, black-eyed boy. She looked at the figure of the retreating Heinrich. She froze, remembering how she hugged a small, forgotten child. She suddenly felt sad. How many years have passed! He became a handsome young man. How many years! She thought, remembering her no longer young age, which the king reminded her of. Vile de Tamp, too, did not let her forget about it. But, now she felt it especially acutely, remembering the boy and seeing today a beautiful young man, whom he had become. Heinrich became a handsome young man. He was young and well built. He was recently by the sea and was sunburned and dark-skinned, like a corsair sailing the seas. He had a thick shock of black hair and the same attentive, serious and incredibly black eyes as in childhood, as deep as the darkest night. Henry and his brother Francis returned from captivity four years later. Children in captivity were not merciful. Heinrich endured this test with courage. His brother turned out to be weaker, and got a lung disease in captivity, returned to his homeland extremely painful. Henry, being the second son of the king and not being heir to the throne, later went into the army, hoping to make a brilliant military career. He liked it. He often disappeared in the barracks among the soldiers than at court in the company of elegant courtiers. Not really loving and favoring balls and fun in the palace. Preferring to all this, hunting. This was his main addiction, as well as fights in tournaments. By nature, a rather calm young man, on a hunt and in a duel, he seemed to become a different person. No one could compare with him in fights. Opponents flew out of the saddle at the first blow, his hand was heavy. His impact was legendary. Once the blow was so strong that not only the rider fell, but also his horse. Also on the hunt, no one could compare with him in dexterity and accuracy. The booty has always belonged to him. He chased the poor beast like a hurricane, sweeping away everything in its path. Because of that, the young prince was a secret and obvious dream of many women’s hearts. And the ladies did not bother to lust for a prince, despite the fact that Henry was married.
