Page 6 of The Darkest Oath

Rollant suppressed a sigh. He had already told him what to do several times in the last few years, but the king never listened, or if he did, never acted. Rollant was tired of talking. “I am in no position to advise the king in this manner.”

“For the sake of Heaven, out with it.” His harsh whisper passed through clenched teeth.

Rollant sighed. “If I wore the crown, I would bypass the parlements and institute tax reform without calling an Estates-General, with military power if needed, forcing the nobility and the clergy to pay taxes and, even more, their fair share of taxes to alleviate the burden on the people and ensure their bellies are full without dividing your authority in the process. I would not delay as each passing day your power slips away.”

Louis stopped with jaw agape. “And kill my people by using military force?”

“No.” Rollant regained his patience. “You must wield power,” he said, whispered, peering down at the king. “Absolute power as king while you still have it.”

Louis shook his head and looked at the masterfully painted ceilings. “Lord God Almighty, my soul is yours. What do I do?”

Rollant nestled into his former sense of nonchalance. He hadn’t uttered a prayer in a long time, yet his childhood in the age where God was everything hadn’t left him either. He didn’t dare say there was no God, though he had spat in the divine’s face when he’d accepted the immortal deal.

The eerie echo from the Hall of Mirrors muted in his ears. He gave the King the correct answer again, but he doubted Louis XVI would do it, not with four of five ministers not worth the silk they wore. Lamoignon was the only one who spoke any sense.

“Rollant,” the king interrupted his thoughts. Frustration stained his pale cheeks. “You side with Lamoignon then?”

“I side with what my eyes have seen come to pass. I side with history,yourhistory, the lineage of your ancestors. Do as I told you in haste before matters decline further, and you’ll keep your family crown.” Rollant shut his mouth, having already said too much and not in the proper tone.

Louis motioned for him to enter his empty bedchamber, a room adjoined to the ostentatious king’s room where the Sun King had expired. Nether Louis nor his predecessor liked the big, open, cold room. They much preferred the smaller, warmer, adjacent room.

Rollant closed the doors behind them, and Louis sat on the bed’s edge. Louis’ trembling fingers pulled the wig from his head, revealing a matted mess of short brown hair.

“I cannot override the parlements,” he muttered, sinking his face in his hands. “I want to be a king of the people. I want them to love me, unlike my grandfather, who abused the crown,” he said.

His hands fisted, and he banged his forehead in gentle beats. “I cannot override the parlementsI reinstatedat my grandfather’s passing to appease the nobles who are of the few who still support the monarchy.”

Rollant stood at attention like a coat of armor lining the halls. He had seen kings rise and fall, domestic and abroad, King Louis XVI was no different. This king would doom himself and perhaps the crown with inaction or the wrong action. But Rollant didn’t fear it. Someone somewhere would rise again, and he would still be stuck in this immortal condemnation of false living. At least, they could all enjoy the rest death had to offer, and if they trusted in the Lord, eternal rest in paradise. For Rollant, though, it didn’t matter; it was all meaningless. He longed for something he could never have, so after centuries, he finally did not see the point in longing for it. Lucifer had won his soul. The deal had been made in a moment of rage and weakness, and he was forever enslaved to it.

Louis had fallen backward, sprawled out on his bed, mumbling incoherently, like he had done when he was a child. The poor man was overwhelmed, worried, and at a complete loss though the answer was right in front of him.

Rollant shifted his weight at the awkwardness but finally decided to comfort the man he had known for thirty-three years. Rollant sat beside the king.

Tears formed in Louis’ eyes. “I . . . I never asked for this. To be king. I was never made for war, hunger . . . the burdens. The people are angry, but how do I make them understand thatIam not their enemy? The nobility refuses to be taxed.”

Rollant nodded. The nobles, if not suppressed, would end all things known. They had come close to abolishing the crown under Louis The Just nearly two hundred years prior. “The unfortunate matter is that your grandfather did not listen to me either and ran up the debt and spent more time with various women than he did attending to the state. They see you as king and, therefore, their enemy.”

“Yet I am not him.”

Rollant hoped he did not have to be evident to the point of condescension. It seemed the king was going to force him to be.

“How is that my responsibility to correct his errors?” Louis rasped.

“Because you wear the same crown.” Rollant shot him a glare a father would a son.

Louis wiped his eyes and sat up, spine curved with his head between his knees. “I don’t want this.”

“And yet you have it.” Rollant’s voice held no warmth or reassurance. Louis was like his ancestors, and Rollant grew weary of watching weak men cling to crowns they did not deserve. The weight of centuries of service burdened his broad shoulders, built and defined through fifteen years of swinging a heavy steel sword. He stood up and rested his palm on the pommel of his rapier as a gesture of control.

Louis lifted his head and stood up hastily. He paced back and forth before his grand bed. Indecision snaked through his shoulder blades and held them tight enough to see through his coat. He stopped in front of Rollant and placed both hands on each of Rollant’s shoulders.

“I trust you more than anyone for your sheer amount of experience.” Louis’ eyes flickered with a rare moment of resolve, though Rollant knew the king would not follow his advice.

“Go, Rollant. Go into the streets of Paris. See what is happening there beyond Versailles.” He pressed his lips thin. “I cannot trust the whispers of nobles or the demands of ministers. Take a month if you must or more, but return with the truth of how the people feel and with answers.” He patted Rollant’s shoulder. “Do you need anything from me to do as I have requested of you?”

Rollant shook his head.

Louis’ brow furrowed. “Not even a place to stay or commoner’s garments?”

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