Page 64 of The Darkest Oath

Louis gritted with a tight jaw. “I’ve already told you. This is a meeting to pass the tax reforms. We cannot risk bringing up other grievances.”

“That is what they have done, however. They expect you to hear their grievances and act accordingly.”

“The Estates-General wasn’t called to address grievances,” Louis said, his voice sharp. “Its purpose is to solve the financial crisis and advise on tax reform, nothing more.”

“From my time in Paris, I can firmly say the original purpose no longer matters. Your people’s support is on its last breath. Your noble’s support is built on favors, and it is not likely to withstand much more. I?—”

The door swung open, and the ministers waltzed in as if they had outstanding accomplishments to share.

Louis glanced back at him and shook his head. “Let’s just see what happens,” he murmured.

Rollant’s eyes hit the floor. He already knew what would happen. The Estates-General would falter, its divisions too deep to heal. But for Élise’s sake, he allowed himself a brief, foolish hope—that this time, the call of the people might finally be answered. Perhaps, for the first time in centuries, history might prove him wrong.

* * *

After a monthof bickering about names, titles, and voting procedures, the Estates-General produced nothing. The Third Estate demanded to be called the Commons. Some members of the First Estate sided with the Third Estate, and all of the nobility disregarded every grievance and course of action proposed by the Commons. Louis demanded a swift resolution, but the Dauphin fell ill and perished, taking the king away from the chaotic and futile Estates-General.

With the king absent, the Estates-General devolved further into chaos. Every resolution crumbled beneath the weight of infighting, and no one dared enforce unity in the king’s place. Rollant doubted Louis would have succeeded even if he were present—but in the private royal chapel, kneeling in grief, Louis seemed more kingly than he ever had on the throne.

Rollant had seen every monarch kneel in prayer in a chapel of their royal residence since the day he died. Louis was no different as his pleas for the Lord to take his son’s soul into heaven echoed against the gilded walls.

“An innocent child…for such as these, theirs is the kingdom…” he whispered. The weight of the crown seemed to bow Louis lower than his prayers.

The king’s tears pricked at Rollant’s long-buried grief. He had knelt as this king did, begging the heavens for mercy—for Amée, for Cateline, for his descendants, until the last bright-eyed Ninette. Time had dulled the sharpness of loss, but since he’d met Élise, moments like the one before him tore open old wounds, bleeding into his eternity. He closed his eyes to focus his thoughts. He had secluded himself from the world once, and he could do it again. He pushed Élise and all the others away, for the pain was too much to bear. It was difficult enough to have Élise live in his dreams; he couldn’t endure the pain of having her in his waking thoughts as well. He drew a deep breath and opened his eyes with a clear head.

Louis whispered, “Amen.” His voice cracked, raw with anguish. For a moment, he was not a king but a father, fragile and mortal; his crown rendered meaningless in death.

But the country was failing, and the king’s ministry had been paralyzed amid the chaos beyond the doors of the royal quarters. He wanted the king to have his time to grieve, but urgency was at hand if there was to be any saving of the monarchy.

“Your Majesty,” Rollant began.

“Not now, Rollant,” Louis gritted and buried his forehead atop his knuckles. The rosary looped through his hands.

“It has been three weeks since the Dauphin’s passing. As your friend and confidante in our time alone, I must reluctantly provide this warning. The Estates-General has spiraled out of control. The people, the Commons—they will not wait for a mourning king. They have also mourned their loved ones due to the famine and high cost of food; they do not share your sorrow.”

Louis’ shoulders shrank. “Leave me,” the nearly inaudible command followed.

He was on shift with a royal oath never to leave the king’s side. “You know I cannot do?—”

“Leave me,” Louis ordered.

Rollant shifted his weight. He ran a hand over his mouth as he debated. “I will be outside the doors.”

When Louis finally emerged, his red eyes betrayed his grief. His voice carried a brittle resolve. “Shall we see to the Estates-General?” he asked in a rush of words.

Rollant’s jaw grew taut. Never had he seen Louis act like a king until that moment, though his heart ached for him as a father. Rollant lifted his chin in respect before doling out the news he had withheld from the king in his time of mourning, an error perhaps, given the state of things.

“The First Estate joined the Third Estate and called themselves the National Assembly. It began conducting its business outside the Estates-General, declaring all taxes illegal. Minister Necker has been offering concessions in your name, but the others haven’t been much help. The National Assembly has claimed authority on behalf of the people. The crowds outside the palace gates are growing more uncontrollable. And apparently, no one told the National Assembly of our next royal session, which would be today, and they were outraged when they arrived three days before to find the door locked.”

Louis’ mouth twisted into a frown, and for a moment, Rollant thought tears would again fall down the man’s cheeks. “Well,” he said, adjusting his cravat and blinking back his tears, “It looks like quite the predicament. God help us,” he muttered.

The king stopped before he entered the royal session and sighed. He stood silent before the grand double doors. His jaw twitched, and his gaze was downcast. “I never wanted the crown,” he whispered. “I’ve never been good for it, but I’ll show the people I am the best king I can be.”

As the doors swung open, Louis entered with Rollant at his side. The King’s steps were measured, and his expression was a façade of authority. But Rollant could see the cracks—Louis’ hand trembled, and his breaths were too shallow.

The grand hall was stifling. Tension thickened the air as the Estates convened once more. The Second Estate was in full regalia, their seats a sea of silks and powdered wigs. The deputies of the National Assembly sat clustered together, their black attire stark against the opulence. Their silence was a weapon, their unmoving presence to greet the king louder than any shout. Rollant couldn’t shake the thought of Élise. Her belief in change, her speech at theAu Pain Roux, shouting, “Take it back!” empowered the people. When the news spread to Charonne, she’d be elated at what was transpiring, though he feared what would come if the royal session did not go as intended.

Louis took his place before his throne and addressed the Assembly. He announced, “We shall begin again. We have made mistakes, and we shall reset our proceedings. Any decisions that have been made in my absence are null and void. As a gesture of goodwill, I hereby decree that no future taxes will be raised unless the Estates-General consents.”

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