Whitney Writes…

It had been some time since Elise had seen anything of interest at Court. The Sun King’s string of affairs were expected. The death of the queen was tragic. The rumored secret, second marriage of the king was intriguing. But the day Lady Yasmine La Fonte had arrived, had indeed been of interest. The way her smile brightened the room, the vibrant color of her gown, the easy poise she held herself with. The pair had only been rumored to be married a short time, the Duke had disappeared back to his country estate only a month ago, a recent widower, and was now returned with this vibrant young bride.

Lady Yasmine La Fonte captured Elise de Rochechouart’s attention.

Elise found herself gravitating back towards the Court’s inner circle, a place she had taken care to extricate herself from following the death of the first queen. Anything that would perhaps draw her into Yasmine’s radius, Elise would chance. She felt like a moth being drawn towards a flame.

For months, Elise found herself being drawn into the entertainments of court life. She found herself on the sidelines watching croquet matches in the gardens. Admiring new art collections in the halls of Versailles. Attending balls, masquerades, concerts, and theater performances.

It was Elise’s crowning achievements of the seasons when she managed to be partners with Yasmine both in croquet and in a duet on the harpischord. Their fingers had brushed numerous times as they flitted up and down the ivory keys. After Yasmine giggle the first time, Elise did it on purpose another time, entangling their pinky fingers. Yasmine had giggled again, and then her green eyes had met Elise’s. Yasmine had blushed profusely after, ducking her head as though in concentration, but Elise could see her wide-spread grin.

That winter, the King announced there would be a grand celebration for his grandson, the Duke of Burgundy’s marriage. The Court was in an up-roar of delight; le Grand Dauphin, the heir to the French throne, would also be in attendance. It was a rarity to have all three Bourbon men together.

Elise decided it seemed like the perfect time to make her growing affection towards Yasmine known. It would be a romantic night, full of music, dancing, and delicious foods. The palace would be bustling beyond capacity, and all the revelers would be focused on their own gains, no one would notice the two of them.

It would be perfect.

Elise had had a gown of exquisite pale, icy blue made, to accent her pale blue eyes. It was trimmed with silver lace and glimmering white pearls. There were skirts for days, and the sleeves flared elegantly at the elbow, the insides lined with a silvery fur. A towering wig of powdered, white curls with snowflakes and pearls and diamonds woven through had been procured. When the atelier had fit her one last time before the ball, Elise’s breath had caught in her throat.

“Is Madame pleased with the result?” the atelier asked, knowing she was.

“Oh, yes,” Elise purred, waving her feathered and furred fan daintily before her, causing the pearls dangling from silver ribbon to clatter against one another, “Madame is most please.”

The morning of the ball, Elise rose early and had her maid prepare a bath. She scrubbed her skin until it was smooth and glistening, she washed her dark hair, and then she soaked in the luxurious scented water until it began to chill. Her maid beckoned to her, a towel draped over one arm. She beckoned for Elise to remove herself from the tub.

“Oh, alright,” she grumbled, standing and stepping out of the copper tub and into the embrace of her maid, who melted away once the towel had been transferred to Elise’s own hands. She patted herself dry as another maid appeared with floral-scented balm for her skin and hair. A dressing gown was draped around Elise’s shoulders and the damp towel was whisked away.

Her maid began braiding Elise’s long, raven hair and pinning it into a smooth coil at the nape of her neck while Elise began patting rouge along her cheekbones and sweeping a silvery-blue powder on her eyelids. She dusted her face with a white powder while her maid began arranging the towering powdered wig atop Elise’s head.

Finally, she was ready.

The evening was kicked off in the Golden Hour, with a magnificent feast. Elise spent the entire meal staring at Yasmine in her gorgeous mint green gown. Her husband was distracted by his latest mistress, and Yasmine caught Elise staring at her on more than one occasion. Each time, Elise allowed a small smile to escape across her lips. And each time, Elise was rewarded with the sight of Yasmine blushing and glancing down and away, burying her attention into her wine glass.

After the lengthy feast, the dancing finally began. Elise was not typically one for dancing, but she partook in as many as she could in that evening’s celebrations. And in each one, she took great care to make sure she was positioned near to Yasmine to be opposite her in any of the same-sex portions of the dances. Each time, she grazed her fingers a little longer against the bare skin of Yasmine’s forearm. Or Elise leaned in closer and closer until her breath tickled Yasmine’s cheek. This time, Yasmine stared straight into Elise’s eyes, not looking away.

Following a minuet dance, Elise found herself parched and in need of refreshment. She disentangled herself from her dance partner and went to fetch herself a chilled glass of champagne. As she took a sip, fanning herself lazily near the bar, Elise watched Yasmine over the crystal rim of her glass. The other woman was also departing the dance floor, and was going to a door that lead to the Hall of Mirrors. Elise’s interest was piqued.

And then Yasmine’s eyes roved across the room, found Elise at the bar, and their gazes met across the room. Yasmine held her gaze for a breath longer than was appropriate, Elise swore she saw the hint of a smile, and Yasmine disappeared through the door. Elise realized she was still holding her glass to her lips, even though she had finished drinking from it long ago. She set it down with a clink on the marble counter, plucked another from a tray a servant carried as they moved out from behind the bar, downed it in a few quick gulps, and set it down beside it’s friend.

She did not go for the same Hall of Mirrors door as Yasmine, not wishing to be too obvious, but another further down the hall. Elise tucked her hands into her fur muff that hung from the thin silver belt around her waist and began walking the dimly lit Hall of Mirrors. The gorgeously gaudy room was deemed too large to heat effectively in the winter, otherwise she was certain the Sun King would have had his grandson’s reception out here. But tonight, she was glad to find the hall empty.

Or largely empty.

Tucked away, in a few mirrored alcoves, Elise passed a pair or two of lovers, too distracted by one another to pay her any mind. There were only a few candelabras lit, and the flames reflected moodily around the gilding and the mirrors of the enormous hall. The full moon outside added a silvery light that reflected whimsically off the fresh snow in the courtyard beyond.

Elise sucked in a gasp of surprise as a cold hand gripped her by the elbow and tugged her into a mirrored alcove. She stared into Yasmine’s green eyes. She felt as though she were sinking into a rich, summer forest, golden sunlight streaking down between the branches. Elise could feel the warmth coming from Yasmine’s body. The coldness of the other woman’s fingers made the rest of Elise’s skin feel like it was ablaze. She pulled her hands free of her muff, and took Elise’s other hand and brought it to her lips, kissing her icy fingers gently.

She kept her eyes on Yasmine’s face and saw the other woman’s lids flutter in surprise, but she did not pull her fingers away from Elise. Instead, when Elise let go of Yasmine’s hand, Yasmine traced Elise’s red lips with her thumb. She ran her finger tips lightly down Elise’s face, over her powdered skin, then along her jaw bone, and the side of her neck. Elise’s skin prickled at the light touch. Yasmine’s fingers slid around the back of Elise’s neck, gently pulling her closer.

Elise couldn’t help but grin. This was far more than she had expected. Their skirts rustled, fighting against one another in the tiny alcove as the two women continued to close the distance between them. Elise could feel the boning of Yasmine’s corset. She watched their likenesses, reflected dozens of times around them, as Yasmine placed her lips gently on Elise’s. The kiss was polite, questioning, and light as a whisper on the wind.

When Yasmine pulled back just a breath, Elise’s heart fell; perhaps she had misread the situation. The pair’s eyes met, and for a moment it seemed as though, to Elise, that the entire world ceased to exist. All she could see was the way the candlelight made Yasmine’s eyes sparkle like emeralds. All she could feel was the softness of Yasmine. All she could smell was the faintest hint of the other woman’s floral perfumed skin. Elise felt warm, yet her skin prickled. A trembling washed over her as Yasmine’s long fingers whispered up the back of Elise’s bare neck. Her skin prickled again as she felt Yasmine’s fingers slip under the edge of her wig and buried themselves in her dark hair.

Their eyes met as Yasmine’s lips trailed across Elise’s cheek and they were kissing again. Elise could feel a hunger rising within her, and could sense it rising in Yasmine as well. Would she be too forward to ask if they should go… elsewhere?

“Your rooms or mine, Lady de Rochechouart?” Yasmine whispered before Elise could utter a word.

She smiled against Yasmine’s lips. “Well, I think yours would have an unwelcome visitor, so obviously mine.”

Yasmine gave a little giggle. “As you wish. Lead me.”

The pair made their way, hands entwined, down numerous, gilded corridors, up flights of marbled stairs, occasionally stopping to catch their breath – as well as one another. Only once did Elise realize she had made a wrong turn, thus was her enrapture by Yasmine.

Yasmine’s breath was hot and on Elise’s neck. Her lips were soft. Elise grabbed Yasmine’s hand from where it was tracing the embroidery across her bodice, grinned wildly at her and darted out from the alcove in which they had been hidden. Yasmine shrieked in delightedly laughter as the pair ran down the gilded corridor. Their silk and satin skirts billowing in their wake. When Elise glanced back over her shoulder at Yasmine, time seemed to slow. The other woman was holding her elegant on her head with her free hand, her cheeks were flushed, and she had a wild glee in her sparkling eyes.

When they reached Elise’s apartments, she pinned Yasmine to the door as she fumbled with the latch. Their breath were fast and ragged. Yasmine was quietly working away at a lacing at the back of Elise’s dress as Elise swore at her hand slipping off the door handle, her palms were sweaty.

Finally, the door fell open and the two women tumbled inside, laughing and gasping. Elise slammed the doors closed behind them, turning the lock, and the pair collided together once more. They tumbled to the bed in a cloud of skirts and satin and lace.

The palace was in a stupor for the remainder of the week, everyone nursing multi-day hangovers it seemed. Elise and Yasmine had remained locked away in Elise’s rooms. No one had come looking for either of them. And that suited them just fine.

As the bright rays of sunlight pierced through the sheer curtains, Elise ran her finger up Yasmine’s bare arm. The other woman stirred briefly before resettling with her cheek against Elise’s bare breast. Elise found on these mornings when she woke first, she was unable to tear her eyes away from the peacefulness that was Yasmine. Every morning, Elise had had the idea to slip away and gather up a breakfast of pastries, fruit, and coffee, and every morning, she just seemed to stare dumbly at Yasmine.

This morning was no different.

When Yasmine’s eyes finally fluttered open, a shy smile cracked her lips when she saw Elise’s gaze upon her. Elise smiled back at the slow way that Yasmine’s eyes opened, unfocused, then slowly focused on her, which led to that same smile, every morning.

“Good morning,” Yasmine said softly, her body stretching against Elise’s side.

“Run away with me,” Elise whispered breathlessly.

“What?” Yasmine laughed, confusion crinkling her brow as though she believed she misheard Elise.

“Run away with me,” Elise said again.

Yasmine fixed Elise with a stare, realizing she was serious. “And where would we go?”

“It does not matter,” Elise said, “as long as we go together.”

Yasmine ran a fingertip gently down Elise’s cheek. “But to where, love? There is not a place we could go,” she whispered.

“I have a cousin,” Elise said again. “She has a château out in Oiron, we would be most welcome there.”

The next day, Elise and Yasmine begged feeling ill, to be left alone in their beds. Once left to their own devices, they packed their things in their trunks. Under the cover of darkness, Elise sent one of her servants to Yasmine’s apartments to collect her trunks to take down to the awaiting carriage. No one would be looking for Elise, she had always been unreliable at showing up at social gatherings in the palace. Yasmine’s husband would scarcely notice her absence, having been completely infatuated by his newest plaything for some time now.

The grounds of Versailles were dark; their escape to a new life having fallen under the guidance of a New Moon. “A New Moon for new beginnings,” Elise said softly to Yasmine, kissing her hand. Yasmine smiled at her.

“And new adventures,” Yasmine agreed.

The pair disappeared into the cozy darkness of their carriage, and it trundled away a moment later. And while the other residents of the palace danced the night away in the Hall of Mirrors, Elise and Yasmine slipped away into the night.

And as the saying goes, they lived happily ever after.