Page 46

The Urgency of Time

Rollant pushed open the double doors of the King’s chambers. His boots struck the polished floor, sending an echo through the room. The sharp ends of two guards’ rapiers crossed before him, halting his entry. His eyes locked on Louis, seated with his midday meal.

Louis’s eyes widened at Rollant’s lack of uniform, sensing the urgency. He stood immediately and ordered, “Guards, leave us and shut the door.”

They did as commanded, and the doors clicked behind Rollant, leaving the room in tense silence.

Rollant straightened, his breath still heavy from his arduous ride to the palace. He pulled his shirt down to smooth its wrinkles.

“Sire,” Rollant said steadily despite the storm brewing within him. He bowed and rose.

Louis’ brow furrowed. “What is it, Rollant?”

“Your Majesty, a revolt at the Bastille is underway.”

“What could they possibly want with the Bastille, the relic of no purpose?” Louis scoffed. “It’s due to be demolished. There’s nothing there,” Louis said as his fingers massaged his temple, trying to understand the people’s reasoning.

“Yesterday, Sire, I witnessed the transfer of gunpowder from the Hotel de Invalides to the Bastille. The mob is armed, likely with the weapons from the Invalides.”

Louis collapsed into his chair. His gaze was fixed on his half-eaten meal in front of him. “Gunpowder and muskets.” The murmur repeated. His fingers fidgeted as if playing with an imaginary lock. “How many in the mob?”

“Almost a thousand men and women were marching, from my estimates.”

“A thousand?!” Louis grabbed his head. He leaned over his food and balled his hands by his ears. He paused, and Rollant said nothing to let his words sink in.

Finally, Louis asked, “You said they were marching, but were they shooting? Were they revolting? Or is this just another display of anger? Sometimes, mobs burn out before they meet their purpose.”

Rollant slumped with a sharp exhale with the sound of a low growl. “Your Majesty, I have lived through enough wars to know when a crowd is on the brink of violence. Yesterday’s street riots should further testify to the mob’s purpose.”

Louis lifted his gaze and met Rollant’s. “Then what should I do?”

“Reinstate Necker immediately. They were rioting yesterday and using his bust as their flag. I’ll take word to Paris this very hour that is what you have done, but you must do it,” Rollant urged him.

But as Rollant spoke, Louis shook his head, pushed back the chair in opposition, and rose.

“No! Absolutely not. Necker was going to be the ruin of the crown, of the monarchy. He panders to them, to their grievances. He undermines the king’s authority in every sense of the word.

It’s no wonder he is the banker turned savior. ”

Rollant shook his head at the king’s folly.

“And if you lose the people entirely, there will be no monarchy left to ruin,” Rollant said, stepping closer.

“It is a time game now. Who concedes first will hold the upper hand. Reinstate Necker, or the revolt will take everything. Send the troops on the Champ de Mar to settle it. If the mob starts shooting, it will not end well for the crown, no matter who wins the scrimmage.”

Louis’ jaw clenched, his gaze flickering with indecision.

He paced the room, with each finger moving with a mind of its own.

“Governor de Launay is at the Bastille,” he said finally.

He nodded to reassure himself of his words.

His hands accentuated each statement. “Yes, I trust Governor de Launay’s decisions.

His father managed the fortress well, as Launay has done.

Born there, raised there—he knows the Bastille better than anyone.

Launay will not surrender it, nor will he order a massacre.

He is a man of peace, and I believe he will do whatever it takes to ensure peace. ”

“And if the mob doesn’t care for peace?” Rollant asked in warning. “If they force his hand?”

Louis sighed. “I do not want Necker returned nor the notion I sent five thousand soldiers to put down a protest.” He stopped pacing and folded his hands behind his back. “We shall see what happens by morning. If there is a revolt, I’ll consider reinstating Necker.”

“Your Majesty, by then, it will be too late,” Rollant said with a clenched jaw.

Louis leaned back and lifted his chin to stretch his neck. “It is in God’s hands now.”

Rollant’s gaze dropped. The silence thickened, punctuated only by the faint footsteps echoing outside the room.

It was not in God’s hands but in the king’s, as it had always been.

And like every decision Louis faced, this one had been postponed.

Rollant knew the price of such hesitation and delay.

Some battles could not be won, and some sacrifices left scars too deep to heal.

But he refused to let élise become a casualty.

Rollant straightened his shoulders. “Your Majesty, if you are to take this stance, may I request leave to return to Paris?”

Louis turned with a knitted brow and crossed his arms. “Why, Rollant?”

“I have a personal matter there that I need to attend to,” Rollant said, choosing his words carefully. “One, I must address before the situation worsens.”

Louis studied him, his gaze narrowing. Then, with a slow nod, he approached him and gripped Rollant’s shoulders.

“My friend, you have given me your every day since I became king. I grant your request, but due to our predicament, I request you return tomorrow before sunset. The days ahead will be critical.”

“I will return as you command,” Rollant said, bowing his head and his heart beating fast. Another grueling ride awaited him, but the stakes demanded it. élise’s face swam before his eyes. He had to reach her in time.

Louis released him, and Rollant turned sharply on his heel. With every step, his resolve hardened. By the time he mounted his mare, his thoughts were clear.

He would save her, no matter the cost. Eternity could wait.