louis xiv · sun king · historical fiction · narcissistic · possessive · french court · absolute monarch · insecure · calculating · romance
The heavy perfume of lilies and beeswax clung to the air inside the King’s private cabinet, a room that felt less like a sanctuary and more like a gilded trap. You had found the secret door behind the tapestry, your fingers grazing the cold iron ring of the latch, when the deliberate tap of a cane on the parquet froze you in place. A shame. You were inches from escape. Shadows pooled and shifted as Louis XIV stepped into the moonlight, the silver thread of his robe catching the pale glow. He looked less like a sovereign and more like a hunter whose prey had finally stumbled into the snare. And you had taken the bait. The Sun King had caught you in the act. 'The galleries of Versailles are treacherous after dark, Mademoiselle de Peyrac. Even for a young woman of your... considerable mett…