Page 76 of The Darkest Oath

“They are spilling into the Great Hall,” Rollant advised the king.

The clamor of weapons mingled with the angry shouts and sharp cracks of doors splintering.

“Curse my grandfather for tearing the iron gate down to build an opera. Yes, Grandfather, a wooden gate will keep the masses away,” Louis mumbled with clenched fists. His fingers popped and dug into his forehead before he stood up with purpose. “If they want my wife’s head, they shall not have it.”

At that moment, they heard frantic knocking. Soon, the Queen burst into the room, her petticoat barely clinging to her frame, a single cloak thrown over her shoulders in haste. Her face, pale as porcelain, shone with sweat and tears. Her chest heaved as she clutched the Dauphin in one arm and held Madame Royale’s hand with the other. Behind her, the muffled thud of pikes striking wood and the rising shouts of the mob filled the halls. Each sound was a countdown to catastrophe.

Rollant stepped aside as she rushed to Louis.

“Save me!” she cried, her voice cracking.

“Mama, I’m hungry,” the Dauphin whimpered, tugging at her sleeve, oblivious to the threats at the door. Queen Marie Antoinette knelt, smoothing his hair with trembling hands. “Be patient, my love,” she whispered, though her voice wavered with fear. “Be patient.”

Rollant’s heart tightened—a sensation he came to despise over the years—watching history devour the innocent time and time again.

Louis tended to his children and ran a hand down the Queen’s arm. To calm her, he said, “They will not harm you, not while I’m alive. “

Rollant walked past their family, suppressing his desire for a wife and children as he had always done. Commander Lafayette awaited Rollant in the antechamber. He approached the commander, noting his stiff posture and carefully measured expression. Rollant asked, “Is this how you run your guard, Commander? Through chaos and mobs?”

Lafayette smirked and cast his eyes down. “There wasn’t much of a choice,” he admitted, running a hand over his tricolor cockade. “Surely, Captain, you understand it is better to concede a little than to lose everything.”

His eyes met Rollant’s, steady, though his hands held an almost imperceptible tremor. “I serve the people as much as the crown,” Lafayette said, his voice tight. “Do you think I like this, Captain? The monarchy won’t survive the day if we don’t meet their demands.”

Rollant narrowed his eyes but said nothing, his jaw tightening at Lafayette’s pragmatic stance. The commander continued, his voice softer but more urgent, “They want to see the Queen. Her presence may calm them enough to save her life.”

“And what happens if it doesn’t?” Rollant shot back, stepping closer, listening to the shouts clearly state they wanted her head. “You cannot guarantee her safety, can you?”

“No,” Lafayette admitted, the word heavy with resignation. “But I have men among the crowd who will try to prevent further violence. That is all I can offer.” He gestured toward the shouts beyond the door. “If she doesn’t go out there, they’ll tear this palace apart. We have no time.”

Rollant’s gaze flickered to the door and back to Lafayette. “The people may call for her, but you’ll be the one sending her to her death.”

Lafayette’s face hardened, but his next words carried an edge of desperation. “And if she doesn’t go, they’ll take her anyway—along with the king, the children, and anyone else they find. Would you have them butchered like animals instead of standing as symbols of dignity for what little time remains?” He paused, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “I’ve seen what they do to those who resist.”

The commander’s words hung in the air, and Rollant let out a slow breath, his gaze locked on the man before him. Whatever sympathy Lafayette held for the crown, it was clear the commander’s loyalty had become a balancing act on a crumbling bridge.

“Very well,” Rollant muttered at last. “I will take you to her.”

The Queen stood by the window, her shoulders taut and trembling as the mob’s chants grew louder. Rollant opened the door, gesturing for Lafayette to enter.

The commander knelt before her, his hat in hand. “Your Majesty, the people demand to see you.” He hesitated, glancing at Rollant. “However, I cannot promise your safety. But your presence may be the only way to calm them so that we can decide the next actions peacefully.” The slight tremor in his voice betrayed the gravity of his plea.

Marie Antoinette lifted her chin, her gaze darting between Rollant, Lafayette, and Louis. “If I refuse?” she asked, her voice steady but brittle.

Lafayette’s jaw tightened. “If you refuse, they will break through, and I will not be able to stop them.”

Marie Antoinette directed her next question to Rollant. “What are the chances of our family surviving if they break through successfully?”

Rollant did not want to answer. He shook his head and pressed his lips thin. “I would hope they would at least spare the children,” he said, knowing sometimes they did not. The weight of his words told her all she needed to know.

The Queen blinked back tears. “Then, I’ll do it,” she said with renewed vigor. “Even if it costs me my life.”

Rollant tilted his head back in admiration. Despite her fear, she held a firm resolve, in contrast to the king’s hesitation and Rollant’s own grim practicality.

Lafayette rose, offering his hand to the Queen. His voice softened, carrying his burdens. “Please know, Your Majesty, I ask this of you not as a traitorous soldier but as someone who wishes to save lives—yours, the King’s, your children’s.”

She nodded and placed her fingertips in his hand.

Louis stood. “I will go with you.”

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