The empress of ice cream

Louise

‘What will you do, child?’ the king asked gently.

I kept my head bowed and my hands laced in my lap. ‘Whatever Your Majesty commands.’

The king looked at his principal minister, Lionne. It was the presence of the latter at this discussion which was both intriguing and disturbing me. That the king wished to talk to me about my future was certainly not unexpected. I knew I had no place at court now that Madame had been buried. There were only three options that I could see: I would be sent back to Brittany to endure the disappointment of my parents; I would be offered to some other well-placed lady at court - possibly even to someone like Olympe de Soissons, although heaven knew my parents would consider that a slight as well - or, if I was very lucky indeed, the king might choose me a husband himself, as a gesture of remembrance to Madame’s wishes.

Of the three, none appealed greatly. Not even the third, although it was the whole reason I had been sent to court in the first place.

‘I expect you are wanting to go home now, to your family,’ the king suggested. ‘Your parents must miss you.’

I kept my voice even. ‘My parents, sir, more than anyone, are aware of the great honour you do them by keeping me at court.’

‘Yes.’ The king cleared his throat. ‘Certain aspects of this life suit you, it seems. Madame spoke to me several times of your keen grasp of diplomatic issues.’

Lionne added, ‘Her foreign connections were of the greatest importance to us. I believe you are aware that she corresponded with her brother.’

‘Indeed, sir,’ I said demurely. ‘I helped Madame draft some of the letters.’ Again the two men exchanged glances.

I now suspected that my earlier assessment of this interview might have been too hasty. If they were'going to send me home, they would have said so by now. Indeed, I had the sense that they had begun this conversation without having, themselves, a clear view of what its outcome would be - that they were, in fact, sounding me out, and that there was some scheme or intrigue they had in mind for which I might be suitable, but which they were still unsure of.

The king said thoughtfully, ‘And if there were some way to continue with her work - to further the cause of the alliance between ourselves and England - would you wish to be involved with that.^’

At this, my heart jumped into my throat - for naturally there was nothing I wanted more. ‘Most definitely, sir.’

‘Even if it meant postponing - temporarily, of course - the prospect of marriage.^’ He smiled. ‘I am sure a young woman as beautiful as yourself cannot be short of suitors. Would you mind asking them to wait for - what.> A year? Perhaps eighteen months?’

So perhaps that explained their hesitancy - the necessarily delicate nature of this bargain. The king was offering - in his subde, elliptical way - to find me a husband in a year or so, if I would dedicate myself to continuing Madame’s work in the meantime. Well, of course that was a proposal I was eager to accept. I bowed my head. ‘I am Your Majesty’s humble servant.’

‘Good.’ The king got to his feet. ‘I will leave Lionne to give you all the details. But remember this, my dear: the work you do for us in the coming months may be more valuable to Erance than a thousand warships.’

It seemed to me, at the time, that this was a remarkable suggestion for a Idng to make to a mere lady-in-waiting, and for a time I could scarcely believe my good fortune. It was many months, years even, before I understood how carefully they had played me.

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