#chateau de fontainebleau

[contenteditor]

Chambre de l'impératrice, Château de Fontainebleau (by demeeschter).

[livesunique]

Imperial Theatre, Palace of Fontainebleau, France,

© Sophie Lloyd

[askeladdee]

Anne of Austria’s bedchamber, Château de Fontainebleau, France.

[postcard-from-the-past]

100 years ago:

Library of Chateau de Fontainebleau, France (by bernard)

[sheltiechicago]

Château de Fontainebleau

Chateau de Fontainebleau is one of the oldest castles in France. It dates back to the 12th century and it takes its name from a fountain nearby. The chateau served as a royal palace for more than 700 years for a line of kings. Today, the chateau is a heritage site and a museum.

[warlocks-and-phoenixes]

So turns out everyone on discord goes crazy (/affectionate) for my location scouting

Allow me to summarize my last 8 hours of relentless headcanoning.

Ro’meave castle in O’Khasis = Hohenzollern Castle, Germany

Von Ronsenburg (Rosen’ask) castle in Scaleswind = Ksiaz Castle, Poland

Alliance Assembly on Phoenix Island/MCD Era = Chateau de Fontainebleau [exterior], Parliament of Portugal [interior]

Republic Assembly in Phoenix Drop/MYS Era = Parliament of Hungary [exterior], French Senate Chamber [interior]

New Meteli & Surrounding Countryside/MYS Era = Yorkshire, England

Zvhal Family Ranch in Mystreet, on the outskirts of New Meteli = Yew Tree Farm, Coniston, England

There’s way more pins where these came from

[postcard-from-the-past]

100 years ago:

The Emperor’s Chamber - Château de Fontainebleau

Napoleon I made the former King’s dressing room into his bedchamber.  The furniture was made and installed from 1808-1809.

Photos by Charles Reeza

[vivelareine]

Does anyone know where I might find plans of the chateau de Fontainebleau as it was at the end of the 17th century or beginning of the 18th century? I'm trying to get some context for a letter that the princesse Palantine wrote about her apartments there and trying to figure out where exactly she was living and what sort of amenities were/weren't at Fontainebleau compared to places like Versailles & other 18th century residences.

So far I can only find actual contemporary plans that are from extensive renovations done in 1729 (which defeat the purpose of wanting to see what Fontainebleau was like in 1694!) or from the 19th century.

[katareyoudrilling]

Hello hello! For your writer asks: 57. what is the last thing that a fic made you google when you were reading it?

Hi Aly!

Good question! I’ve been reading The Cupid Seller by @ishabull and in the second chapter they go to the chateau de Fontainebleau so of course I had to google to see it! It’s hard to say which is prettier, the chateau or Marcus Pike 🤷🏼‍♀️

Thanks for asking!

Asks for fanfic writers

[mybeingthere]

Clouds for scenery [canvas and wood], Nuages pour “Dardanus” de Rameau dans didon, 1783, Chateau Fontainebleau.

[contenteditor]

Chambre de l'impératrice, Château de Fontainebleau (by shankland).

[theroyalthrones]

Behind the Scenes | Chateau de Fontainebleau |Lagrasse, Lavande

beginning | previous | next

Transcript Under the Cut

NOBLE BOY It's been a while since I saw you at one of these, your highness. LAURIE ALAIRE I do try to keep away. All this access is disgusting. NOBLE BOY There are many other reasons to come. NOBLE BOY Jean, Lady de Chabannes has been staring at you since you've arrived. NOBLE BOY (annoyed) ignore her, she'll tell you I broke her heart, or whatever. NOBLE BOY (Laughs) That's cruel even for you, Lord Levis… Giselle walks in, eyes turn to her as she does. One of the boys walks up to Laurie, whispering in his ear. NOBLE BOY Didn't you have something going on with, Lady De La Valliere? LAURIE ALAIRE Shut it, mathieu. It's quite literally ancient history. NOBLE BOY Well then you won't mind if I take a shot at it. LAURIE ALAIRE … Laurie excuses himself, Giselle has long since spotted laurie as well. But she has disappeared. He finds her at a balcony, she's overlooking the edge. He walks up to her, lights his cigarette. She looks over at him. GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE Are you supposed to be doing that? LAURIE ALAIRE How can I be sure? They look at eachother for a moment 8p (luc has cig GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE Let me. She takes a puff, and coughs a bit. 9(elle has cig LAURIE ALAIRE (laughs) You still can't handle it. GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE Who says I can't. You don't know what I can handle… (suggestive) LAURIE ALAIRE … Well maybe I have to figure you out all over again. 10 lau cig GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE … You should go. LAURIE ALAIRE I'd like to stay. GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE Not many people would willingly choose my company. LAURIE ALAIRE It's not nice to lie, Giselle. As soon as you arrived, all eyes were on you. 11 elle cig GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE They just want a piece of me. They're like dogs, and I'm some sort of new prey. LAURIE ALAIRE You could hardly be prey. I remember- 12 laurir cig GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE Memories are fickle, they can change like the tide. And I'm no memory. Giselle has been leaning against the banister. Laurie looking at her. LAURIE ALAIRE What happened to you? GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE … SOME GUY (calls out to them, lookinng for laurie) Giselle stamps out the cigarette with her heel. GISELLE DE LA VALLIERE You're better off never knowing. Walks away, laurie staring after her.

[lepreuxchevalier]

Magnus Williamson, Dauphin de Viennois et Le Héritier Presomptif du Royaume d'Aquitaine and his shieldbearer, a Greuthungi savage from beyond the charted frontiers of The Known World whom he personally named Joe Allen Hayes were sitting by the fireplace of his personal apartment at Oberlin Castle, strategically situated at the base of a mountain junction within the northernmost frontiers of Margrabia Mazowsza, sipping hot cups of Xicolatl infused with massive amounts sugar imported all the way from the distant continent of Chupayotl across the great oceans separating The New World from The Civilized World, while wearing a tunic and pantaloons crafted from the most luxurious and sumptuous Khashabarii silks imported by Erizen and Ashuryan silk merchants all the way from The Caliphate of Khashabar, richly dyed with the heraldic liveries of The Aquitainian Monarchy, embroidered with gilded thread, and encrusted with shining emeralds imported from the gem mines of Das Königreich Schönbrunn. This eight foot tall tower of muscle and wrought iron was a dour, stoic, cold man of few words who never seemed to laugh, flinch, or even smile throughout the entire decade that he had served as a household retainer within the personal coterie of Le Dauphin de Viennois. Dauphin Magnus was curious to learn more about Hogriket Jotunheim from beyond the charted frontiers of civilization that allegedly birthed this seemingly voiceless, expressionless, and stone cold pillar of manly might and chainmail. Magnus was curious to learn specifically about the so-called Björn Stormson, the dreaded and infamous High King of The Twelve Tribes of The Greuthungi who inhabited this godsforsaken, barbarian, heathen kingdom that was only mentioned in the hushed murmurs of Mazowiecki traders and navigators operating within the continent of distant Maharaj. That exact same High King of Jotunheim who had recently sacked, plundered, and pillaged the whole expanse of Rus'skaya Tsarstvo under Rod Vojvodin Bol'shogo on their trajectory towards the northwestern periphery of The Empire of Mankind Secundus. Impatient in tolerating the prolonged silence and the monotony within the confines of his aesthetically Spartan quarters any further, Le Dauphin of Viennois and Le Héritier Presomptif du Royaume d'Aquitaine broke the seemingly uncounted hours of this unbearable silence and boredom between him and his most trusted retainer as the fireplace chimney billowed ash and smoke into the winter sky of Polnocnej Marchia.

"Of all the warlords and princely generals of repute that dominate the battlefields and court intrigues of this blessed world, I am equally curious and trepidatious to seek any who I honestly cannot outmatch in single combat. Maybe not Edward Fitzroy, Titular Duke of Huntington. From what my father's official emissaries and personal heralds tell me, that young man has been drilled and educated extensively by The Emerald Legion's world renowned quartermasters and drill sergeants at my family's summer residence at Chateau Lafleur, the boy has already demonstrated the battlefield temperament of a Norscan Baresark in Angels' Garb. A fine mix of skill and fury so very much emblematic of a holy and righteous angel of death and retribution, or the fist of an angry, vengeful god king eschewing his divine judgement upon the sinful and the faithless of the whole world. Nor perhaps Trothus VI, Blood King of Norsca. From the equally chilling and unsettling reports I gather from travelling heralds proliferating news of his alleged Slaughter of Dimashq, his equally unspeakable and unimaginable atrocities and war crimes transacted towards it's most unforntunate resident citizenry is the residue of my very worst nightmares. A truly monolithic and umbral avatar of madness and insanity incarnate, and hell let loose."

"The aristocratic, noble, feudal princeps and magnates collectively and officially represented within my father's royal court at Le Palais de Fontainebleau and Chateau LaFleur are fundamentally far too vain and arrogant. Vasily Vojvodin, Tsar of Rus'skaya and Grand Prince of Bolshoi is unapologetically and explicitly far too bloodthirsty and mentally unstable. Conrad Von Buchenauer, Herzog von Solingen is simply too austere and conservative. Boleslaw III "Chobry," Margrave of Mazowsze is paradoxically far too frigid, arid, and cerebral to truly enjoy the thrill of the joust and the duel, despite having rightfully earned his sobriquet "The Brave" in the battlefields of Northern Mazowsze. Friedrich I, König von Middenland and Albrecht Von Biermann, Markgraf von Brannenborg have irredeemably grown too adamantly stubborn, intolerant, and inflexible from consistently defecating more-or-less the exact same nonsensical and obscene blasphemies, heresies, and infidelities of their damnable creed originally drafted and published by that perfidious heretic Karl Von Luxembourg, Ph.D at Die Universität Wörtzburch in Das Herzogtum Solingen. Adriano Martini, Il Console-Eletto de La Repubblicca Serenissima di Toscana and Il Presidente Offiziale Della Lega Olympica is a Machiavian snake who cowers in the shadows like a sewer rat, spinning his intricate and labyrinthine web of intrigues and schemes within The Holy Sept at Romulus, Cosmopoleis simply by leveraging his "elected" suzerainty over the baronial and knightly houses who form the cream, core, and bulk of the ruling class of aristocracy and nobility in La Serenissima, rather than daringly and courageously bringing the full might of his honest steel and his force of powder against his enemies in righteous, glorious battle. And everyone knows about my personal and direct confrontation with The Crown Prince to The Reigning Khashabarii Caliph traditionally seated at that bloated expanse of a megalopolis known as Beshabilit, when he idiotically threw himself, head first, at the vanguard of a seemingly and equally numberless and uncountable mass of unwashed, untrained, unskilled, undisciplined, and ill-equipped Erizen and Ashuryan tribesmen upon the mighty bastions of Oberlin Castle, without using any siege guns or even simple windlass artillery pieces to help him breach the outer curtain. However, for reasons that continue to confound and disease me, in equal measure. Even after months of thoroughly obsessing and agonizing over the same predicament. Björn Stormson as The Hogkunung of The Greuthungi has finally arrived upon the northwestern periphery of The Empire of Mankind Secundus at the forefront of an equally mighty and terrible horde of godsless, barbaric, unwashed, heathen savages from beyond the charted frontiers of civilization. Leaving nothing but blood, desolation, and misery since their initial sighting beyond the northernmost frontier of the Rus'skayan hinterlands. Should Polnocnej Marchia and Oberlin Castle be en-route of their path of conquest and devastation, could I singlehandedly spare the lives of all the men under my personal command and my direct supervision, as well as those of the local population under my protection by coming to a direct resolution with him in single combat?"

Cold Sweat condensed over Le Dauphin de Viennois' right brow as he witnessed in horror and disease at the barely contained dread, anguish, and torment quietly expressed within Joe Allen Hayes' tortured and tormented eyes. This grizzled and bloodied veteran of over two dozen pitched battles, sieges and countless minor skirmishes whom he had never known to fear or dread any foe on the field of battle, regardless of their individual strength or their collective numbers. Over two minutes after staring blankly in horror into the empty void of the blazing fireplace in Dauphin Magnus' Quarters, The Former Greuthungi Baresark finally broke his agonized and dreadful silence in an equally blood curdling and cryptic fashion.

"I fear no man who treads upon the face of the blasted earth, my lord. But I am unsure if daemon is strong enough a noun to describe the full power, horror, and terror of that twisted thing who calls himself The High King of Jotunheim. Regardless of whether you directly confront his presence on the battlefield or as a guest at his mead hall feasting and drinking in the presence of the council of his Jarls and Huscarls, he is not a human being at all, but the living, breathing incarnation of slaughter and Tartaros. Only the mythical and blessed demigods described within the holy scriptures of The Canons of The Old Gods and The New Gods, or the archangels of Hyperion as the highest echelon of divine emissaries to The King of The Heavens and The God-King of The Canon Pantheon of The New Gods can hope to best The High King of Jotunhem in single combat."

"You're lucky I don't truly fear the wrath of the gods. For if I truly did, I would have had you burned at the stake for this heresy and blasphemy of the highest order." Begrudgingly uttered Le Dauphin de Viennois, uncertain of the ultimate fate or the eventual destiny of the peoples of The Civilized World.

[unclefungusthegoat]

So I've been thinking about THIS:

for like a whole day now, and it's got me like:

So here are my notes and questions and thoughts:

Gonna be long, going to put under a 'keep reading'

THE PEOPLE INVOLVED

Simon Mirren. He created Versailles, and him posting this image suggests that he's working on a project related to Versailles or the Louis XIV period of history.

'He's back'. The word 'back' here absolutely suggests a return of someone we're familiar with.

Alex Vlahos is INVESTED in whatever it is - suggesting 'HE' is Philippe. He liked the post and commented 'Makes you wonder why he ever went away'...

... and then David Wolstenscroft, the OTHER creator of Versailles, replied saying 'And how'.

This is so cryptic. They all know who 'he' is. Alex seems perhaps wistful, maybe about the end of the show and therefore the end of Philippe. 'And how'... I've no freaking idea what this means. How 'Philippe' went away? How he's come back?

How he went away... the show ended.

How he's come back... well I have a theory later.

This screenshot above is taken from Gabriella Petrillo's Twitter account - as you can see, Alex shared the pic to his Instagram story captioned 'Oh, who invited you?'

Which is in QUOTATION MARKS.

Meaning that this is either Philippe asking the audience, or a general character tagline for the project.

OTHER PEOPLE WHO LIKED THE PIC

Anna Brewster (Montespan), Sarah Winter (Louise de la Valliere), Raphael Roger Levy (The Masked Man in S1), and also Nicki Oebel who works with Alex as the second half of his film company Cowhouse Films

TAGGED NAMES

Tagged in this picture are:

ALEX VLAHOS (and his tag is directly on the man's head, which might not mean anything, but suggests it's him)

EVAN WILLIAMS (not him, Chevy is blond)

GEORGE BLAGDEN (the only other real candidate as to who this could be, but compared side by side to the Versailles promo photos, and with the lack of response from George, I doubt it)

STUART BOWMAN (too young to be him)

Also tagged: Versailles Series, MonChevy Love, Versailles fan club.

Bonus: Helen Mirren (Simon Mirren's aunt), Bella Thorne, both actors, and also Louis Vuitton Official and Harris Reed, both fashion houses/designers

THE IMAGE

OK, so lets assume this is meant to be Philippe.

COSTUME/HAIR

The jacket is the wrong style for 1600s Versailles. It's more 1700s, and the real Philippe died in 1701. The costume designers for the original show were METICULOUS in their choices and the way things were worn. Including COLOUR PALATTES. Every character had their own. And Philippe only wore white like this once... at the costume party in S1 E9 when he dressed identically to Louis. Generally, Philippe wore more grey and silver.

If the figure is Philippe, the hair is the right colour, but shorter, and also half up, which is not a style Philippe ever wore in the show. His hair was sleeker with much looser waves, whereas this man has quite thick hair.

LOCATION

I think the Chateau in the photo is Fontainebleau, where some of Versailles was filmed, but I can't find a direct parallel photo from the position 'Philippe' is standing in. However, Fontainebleau has lots of water near it, like in the photo. (And I also feel like I saw Alex visiting there on Instagram within the past few months but I don't know if my brain is playing tricks on me)

IS IT AI?

My sister pointed out the image could be AI generated and honestly? I agree. No hands on show, and the bottom of the sleeves look a bit weird. No location tagged either. Historical costume that isn't quite right for the period we're assuming it to be, or for Philippe's character, which wouldn't be inkeeping with the series' aesthetic.

Could definitely be AI.

REALITY CHECK

Versailles was the most expensive show Canal+ had ever produced. I think it still is. And a new series, or spinoff series, would be just as expensive to produce. This isn't Game of Thrones we're talking about. The show has its hardcore fans, but it wasn't exactly a household name, which studios would throw masses of money at to reboot.

The story of S3 of Versailles also ended in the early-mid 1680s, just as the cast were reaching the point where it seemed ludicrous that they all still looked so young. The cast are now all doing different projects, several have married and had children since. They've moved on with their lives. To think they'd all return to a reboot or spinoff show... is unlikely.

However...

SAINT CLOUD

Alex Vlahos tormented us all with this snippet of a 'Saint Cloud' concept trailer a couple of months ago. Saint Cloud was the name of Philippe's chateau, and his spinoff idea was always a MonChevy comedy show about their lives and debauchery and stuff at their home.

But let's face it, this whole thing feels unlikely, and more just like a bit of a fun idea than something that a studio would actually produce, and he's only just started writing a concept trailer...

BUT.

SPEAKING OF...

ALEX VLAHOS

I'm gonna do a whole section on Alex Vlahos, because there's no way he's not involved. He, in fact, announced something at the convention that gives me my biggest theory about what this is.

Alex is obviously a driving force for the Versailles fandom. He was a key figure at the conventions and at the con in May I went to, and on Instagram shortly after, he announced he is going to do a Versailles podcast next year. It'll be a 30 episode thing, one for each episode of the show, and he said he'll have guest stars to chat to... including other actors and the showrunners, Simon Mirren and David Wolstencroft.

So.

That is a CONFIRMED upcoming Versailles project.

And so this image?

MY THEORY

I'm running with the theory that it's is a promo image for Alex's Versailles podcast, possibly made with AI.

It would make sense.

It's something for the fans, hence the tagged accounts. It'll feature the tagged actors to talk about the show. It's not something that is going to cost a million euros to make, so is more realistic. It's not a long term commitment for actors who have other jobs now.

It shows a man who looks a bit like Philippe - looking back at the chateau, as if reminiscing about his time there... just as Alex is going to do on his podcast.

BUT'S

Of course, this is just my theory. If it is the case, the fact that this podcast had already been announced twice makes the mysterious nature of this pic/conversation weird. And the fact that it was Simon Mirren posting it first, not Alex Vlahos, would be weird too, although maybe it's just because it's going to be quite an 'official' thing, with the support of the showrunners.

But I digress.

Anyway, on a final note, I would VERY VERY VERY willing to be proven wrong, and have a Versailles S4 or a MonChevy spinoff happening, I might actually cry if it does hahahaha

[adelemadouce]

The Sacrilege of Fontainebleau-Part 2

The weather the next day was definitely against me! It rained and stormed, but it was mild and every now and then the sun shone through the heavy black clouds. At dawn I crept with my bundle of *adventure clothes*, as well as a small loaf of bread, a piece of cheese and a bottle of cider to Monsieur Copin, who was already waiting for me. "To Longchamp!" I called to him and climbed into the carriage. When we reached the riding school, I told Copin to go home straight away. I would spend the day with friends and probably wouldn't be back until tomorrow. It wasn't to be the only lie that day! At the stables of the Hippodrome I immediately met Adrian, my stable boy. At this early hour there were only a few people at the stables, so I was able to talk to Adrian undisturbed. "I need your help! I have to go to Fontainebleau today...can you come with me, Adrian? It's important" I pulled the gold coins out of my purse. "You don't have to do it for nothing...here!" I pressed the coins into his hand. "But Madame, Fontainebleau is far away for a day's ride...and in this weather!" I became impatient. "I know, Adrian...but it must be done, ...please! Saddle two hardy hire horses, take old saddles...I'll change in the meantime!" He looked at me doubtfully. I met his eyes pleadingly and finally he nodded. "Very well!" He put the gold coins in his pocket. "You are in luck, Madame....I know the way to Fontainebleau!" I cheered silently. Then I went into the next horse box and turned into a young man! When Adrian saw me, he scratched his thick blonde strands of hair. "Parbleu Madame, what is this...do you want to join the brigands?" I took the reins of a brown horse. "No. But in this clothes I can protect myself better from the brigands. Besides, we have to get around the barriers!" I mounted my horse. As Adrian mounted his horse next to me he said. "So, by secret routes...I almost thought so! May I ask what you want in Fontainebleau, Madame?" -- "I must speak to the Emperor!" Adrian looked at me doubtfully again and murmured: "...of course, he's already waiting for us!" The boy probably thought I was crazy. I probably was! But there was a storm raging inside me which forced me to this restlessness. Maybe it was the unknown longing to which I surrendered defenselessly, and which drove me a way that frightened me and yet made me as wonderfully alive as I had always dreamed. Maybe it was just...love!

I spurred my horse and together we rode south, out of Paris, into the unknown forests, fields and quarries. We made good progress, although the weather was getting worse. We headed west of Melun and saw a few mounted guards near Juvisy, but they didn't notice us. By midday my clothes were completely soaked by the rain, I was freezing and my teeth were chattering. As we stopped to rest in a small forest, Adrian said: "If you can't go on, Madame...then we'll turn back! I don't want to take responsibility for your health!" I took a sip of cider and bit into the cheese. "It's alright, Adrian. But we have to change horses!" The animals were steaming and exhausted. Not far from us was a rather run-down relay station. They offered us fresh horses at an extortionate price. I paid and we saddled the horses. I was frozen, but ready to endure this strenuous ride. I thought about my plan again. What did I actually want to do! Ask the Emperor whether he had seduced me into love that night? Was he the one who had impregnated me? Good God, was I crazy? There must have been countless women who wanted to blame the Emperor for his fatherhood. How many times had he heard that? Should he think I was one of those women who acted only out of malice? I began to doubt my plan, but it was too late. We reached the forest of Fontainebleau and there was no turning back!

In front of us, one of the roads led directly to the "Barrière de Chateau", a barrier blocked the passage, the crossing point was guarded by a group of Guards. I became nervous, but tried not to let my anxiety show. Adrian was also trembling. We were both exhausted. "I'm going to talk to the sergeant. You are silent. You don't say a word, Adrian, do you hear! Not a word!" And I said more to myself: "I'm going to settle this matter now!" A few steps from the Grenadiers Guard, I jumped down from my horse and pulled my document with the imperial seal from my pocket. I tried to smile. "Bonsoir, Monsieur Sergeant...I greet you!" The tall Grognard looked amused from under his bushy eyebrows. "What do you want, little fellow?" I nodded at him in a friendly manner. "I request an audience with the Grand Maréchal Duroc. I am here...in a private mission!" The Grognard grumbled something. He looked me up and down. Then he spat out a load of chewing tobacco. He looked around and called: "Pastier, ...come here!" Another sergeant came. "The little rascal wants to see the Grand Marshal...on a private mission!" said the Grognard and both men laughed. "Do you have a pass, boy? You can't get through here without one!" Sergeant Pastier was not as friendly as the Grognard. He also smelled of garlic. "Please, Monsieur Sergeant, I have this paper. It bears the Emperor's seal. My mission is strictly confidential. I must see the Grand Marshal!" Sergeant Pastier looked at my document and then shouted: "This is a letter...not a pass! Are you kidding us, boy?"

He grabbed the collar of my jacket, pulled me up and then threw me to the ground. "Get out of here, you little gobshite!" he shouted after me. My hat flew off my head as I hit the ground. I felt a pain in my knees, but I got up immediately. The wind blew through my loose hair. "Merde!...that's a girl!" said the Grognard. I tried it once again. "Please read the document, Sergeant Pastier, it will explain everything!" I could only hope that he would give me another chance. "My name is Adèle Duchâtel, I am a sworn lady-in-waiting to Her Majesty Empress Joséphine. We were robbed, my passport was stolen...and my money. I even had to give my clothes!" Pastier looked at me angrily for a moment. Then his eyes skimmed over the paper and he finally saw the Emperor's signature and the seal. He put the document in his sleeve and said loudly: "The Grand Marshal should clarify that...that is not my responsibility!" Adrian and I had to mount again, a mounted guard took our reins and we trotted behind him towards the Château. Pastier rode behind us. We rode along the side of the large courtyard to the coach houses of Fontainebleau. There were soldiers everywhere, looking at us with interest. The horses stopped at the entrance to the imperial stables and we were allowed to dismount. The sergeant disappeared into the stables with my document. Adrian and I exchanged questioning glances, neither of us dared to say anything. I was terribly cold. I was scared and wanted to cry, but I didn't want to scare the boy. Pastier appeared again and beckoned us over. We followed him into the stables, it smelled of hay and manure, horses neighed, somewhere a pack of dogs barked. The corridors were lit by lanterns, and it was dusk outside. In the large saddle hall, Pastier ordered us to stay behind. I saw a group of high-ranking officers at the other end. And the Emperor, Napoléon! "There he is!" I said quietly to Adrian. He hardly dared to look over. "God, have mercy on us!" Then I saw the Grand Marshal Duroc, he came straight towards me. His features beneath his large bicorne hat were filled with great anger. "Madame Duchâtel...is it really you? What kind of charade is this? What the devil has gotten into you...? Are you mad?" I bowed slightly. "Your Excellency, I humbly ask for Your forgiveness! We were forced by brigands..." I don't know why I brought up this lie again? "Brigands? Are you injured, Madame?" he asked immediately. But when I shook my head, Duroc looked at me pitylessly. His voice sounded very suspicious when he asked me: "You come from Paris...by horseback...in this weather! I wonder why, Madame?" My voice dropped. "I came here to see the Emperor...and to speak to him...on a private matter!" Duroc laughed mockingly. "What kind of private matter?" I looked up irritably. "I can't tell you that, Excellency,...otherwise it wouldn't be private!" The Grand Marshal sighed and turned abruptly, his cloak swinging. "Wait here!" he said. He went back over to the Emperor, who was difficult to see as his officers surrounded him. When Duroc approached him, I finally got a glimpse of Napoléon. He did not look in my direction, however. When Duroc spoke to him I saw him shake his head, then he gave the Grand Marshal some instructions, which Duroc nodded in response to. Duroc returned to us a moment later as the Emperor left the saddle hall. "The Emperor will not receive you, Madame! You are here unofficially and are not allowed to enter the Château! The Emperor also demands that you get reprimand for your behavior..." Duroc cleared his throat and continued. "...you and your servant will go to Paris at dawn! You can spend the night here."

His words sounded so devastating that I was speechless! The Emperor didn't want to see me! I just let believe it! When Duroc said to Adrian: "Young man, you can spend the night in the stable lad's quarters!" I interrupted the Grand Marshal pleadingly: "Please, don't hurt him, Your Excellency! He's a good boy and he only did what I asked of him!" But Duroc ignored me. He looked over me. An older man with a powdered wig and gold-embroidered livery appeared, a maid or kitchen maid walking at his side. "Ah, Monsieur Gramont, I'm glad to see you. This is the lady in question!" Duroc bowed slightly - very slightly!- to me and then said goodbye. I was taken into the care of Monsieur Gramont, but I really didn't notice it. I was somehow...lifeless. I ran after him and the kitchen maid into the large carriage hall. Monsieur Gramont and the kitchen maid were whispering to each other. In front of the large imperial Travel-Berline, I saw the golden imperial coat of arms, with an aggressive eagle clutching a lightning bolt in his claws. Monsieur Gramont opened the door, turned to me and said: "S'il vous plaît, Madame!" I got into the large imperial carriage, it was heated and two oil lamps were burning on the walls. The Empress had told us once, that the Emperor's carriage had to be ready to depart at any time. The girl got in behind me and closed the door. "I have to undress you, Madame. We must dry your clothes." I looked around. The upholstery of the carriage was covered with furs and blankets. It was comfortably warm! So I started to undress, being careful not to reveal the little knife in my riding boot. "I'll keep the boots!" I said and the girl nodded. "I'll bring your supper right away, Madame!" I tried to smile, but I couldn't. "Thank you very much!" was all I could say. I was now completely naked and immediately wrapped myself in furs. My thimbles stand cheekily, hard as granite, and my hair layed wet on my bare shoulders, I sniffled. I looked around. This carriage was pure luxury! The walls were upholstered with satin silk, under the seats were Mahagoni drawers with gold fittings. A scent of amber and Eau de Cologne hung in the air. I layed back and enjoyed the warmth and comfort. My body ached! I was infinitely tired and infinitely unhappy. But all I could do was surrender to my fate. When the girl came with my supper, I regained some hope. I was supposed to drink a warm cognac first, it burned my throat. Then there were two fat fried capons, with a plum pancake. It was delicious! I had never eaten anything so delicious before! My spirits revived, but only briefly. After the meal I was overcome by tiredness and sadness. The girl had already disappeared with the harness a while ago when I lay in the furs and listened to the noises from the stables, horses hooves, neighing, blows on an anvil...It sounded so close, from a distant world I was no longer a part. I snuggled up in the furs and tried to sleep. Maybe I would dream that the Emperor would forgive me and listen to me...

On the threshold of sleep the door suddenly burst open. I was startled and sat up, my bare arms pressing the fur tightly to my body. It was the Emperor!! He got into the carriage and immediately closed the door behind him. He was not wearing a hat, but was wearing a beautiful green velvet coat with a fur collar and gold braid.

I opened my eyes wide, my heart was pounding, all sounds had disappeared, the anvil, the horses, it was quiet. Only my heart could still be heard...I wanted to say something, but I couldn't. I could only look at him. He didn't say anything either. He looked at me, his eyes delving deep into my soul, that I fell into a sweet state of paralysis....I wanted to be viewed like that for the rest of my life! "Madame, " he said. Then his eyes slid over my neck and my bare shoulders, a gentle smile spread across his lips. I still couldn't say anything. Then his eyes slid back to my face. His smile faded almost imperceptibly. He now seemed slightly surprised. "Madame," he said again. He grabbed my hand and pulled it from the fur. Without taking his eyes off me he put my hand to his mouth and kissed my palm. He closed his eyes for a moment...and I held my breath! He looked up at me, his arm went around my waist, he pulled me towards him, I bent my head back slightly and opened my lips. He now whispered softly: "Madame..." then he leaned towards me and started to kiss me. I felt his sweet strong tongue in my mouth and just thought - how wonderful it is to die of love!

We kissed for minutes, then I heard him say my name for the first time: "Adèle...Adèle!" The Emperor pressed me deeper into the cushions and kissed me even harder, even more passionately. I felt a hot sting between my thighs, a flash of pleasure that shot through my body. I hugged him as tightly as I could, and his tongue became even wilder! We both moaned, but quietly. Then I finally dared to say something. "Sire, how long have you known that I love you?" He smiled and looked at my mouth. "For a while now..." His hand grabbed my chin, I couldn't answer because he kissed me again. I was so overwhelmed with happiness that tears welled up in my eyes. The Emperor stroked my face. "Do you want to know when I fell in love with you? When I saw you that day in Saint Cloud...in the rain...as you struggled with the umbrella...that's when I was hooked!" He ran the tip of his tongue over my lips. "Ma douce...douce Adèle!" We kissed even more hotly, more intensely. There was a desire to devour each other! The Emperor slid his fingers between the fur to caress my breast. I let the fur slide down. "What is that?" He looked at my breasts in astonishment. "Those are my thimbles," I answered obediently. He stroked one of my hard nipples. "Your...what?" He looked at me. "My thimbles!" The Emperor threw his head back and laughed out loud. "Your thimbles! God, they are gorgeous!" He looked at me and smiled. "You are gorgeous, Adèle!" We kissed again. I could feel his arousement. "I desire you so much, my sweet! Do you know how much?! I want you....but I can't. Not now. Not here!" I kissed his cheek. "But why not, Sire? I will die if you don't take me now! I belong to you..."

Outside, in front of the carriage someone moved, then there was a scratching at the door. The Emperor raised his head and called out angrily: "Five more minutes!" He looked at me and became tender again. "I must go, sweet Adèle...I must have dinner with the Empress and the Pope! I would rather stay with you, believe me! But I have the Pope under my roof....and a naked girl in my arms. What a sacrilege!" He chuckled. "I have to go, my love! But when we see each other again, no one will bother us anymore...I promise you that, sweet Adèle!" We kissed again, deep, hot, wet and almost desperate. "I love you, Sire!" I was able to say, then he released himself from my arms and left me...

I was left alone and cried. Never before my heart had been so full of happiness!

[european-tour-operator]

Route: Paris - Provins - Château Vaux le Vicomte - Chateau de Fontainebleau - Paris Duration: 10 h The first stop of our tour will be at Medieval City of Provins,where charming timber-framed houses are surrounded by the remains of medieval walls. A vibe of stepping back in time fills the air, and the