June-2
1965 Words
“I did not know. I am so sorry to hear of your loss.”
Joséphine patted me on my arm. “That was nearly ten years ago. They imprisoned me during my husband’s trial, and I feared that I would lose all that we had. After they killed Alexandre, I needed to find a way to survive and keep my two children.”
I listened but did not know how to respond to such tragedy.
“I became the mistress of several prominent men in Paris and then I met Napoleon and we soon married.”
“I had wondered how you met General Napoleon.” I realized my rudeness and added, “I apologize for my bluntness. I meant no offense.”
“And I take none. You are simply curious.”
Joséphine walked into the temple and stood by the statue of cupid, looking out at the pond. “We are women and we will do what we need to survive. Do you not agree?”
“I am learning.” I watched the swans out on the pond and wished Henri was here.
She broke the uncomfortable silence and asked, “Do you know my real name?”
“Is it not Joséphine?” I wondered out loud.
“My name is Rose but Napoleon has never liked it. He prefers my middle name, Joséphe, and started calling me Joséphine.”
“Rose is such a pretty name.” I remained lost in my thoughts.
Joséphine pulled a piece of crusty bread from a pocket and broke off a piece to feed to the swans. “Cinderella, what is your true name?”
For a moment, I had forgotten, as so many people called me by that name. She handed me a piece of bread and I flicked it to the birds. “My name is Sophia.”
“Ah, the Goddess of Wisdom. Such a beautiful name.”
I brushed the crumbs off of my hands and said, “I have not used my name in many years.”
“Neither have I.” She sat down near the pond and shielded her eyes from the bright, morning sun. “And the man who changed my name is off at war. I am here with money, extravagant parties, and plenty to do, and men to keep me busy, but I will tell you a secret.” She turned toward me and whispered conspiratorially, “I am not happy.”
She was quiet for a moment and started to talk but then stopped. I could see that she was working hard on choosing the correct words. “I made my choices for my children and for my future. I had been in prison and had feared for my life. For me, I wanted to live, so I made myself available to those men in power. Yet I am not happy.”
She gently touched my hand and then stood up. “I see that you are not happy. I pray you find a different path than I.”
She said nothing else and walked away. I did not say much nor did she offer me a chance to respond. She was gone, but I sat thinking about all the wealth, power, and luxury at her disposal. None of it mattered to her.
My opinion of Joséphine had changed much from our conversation, as I had thought her most interested in extravagance yet she had told me otherwise. Let me end here. I hope to find Clarissa or Henri before the queen calls me to attend her.
June 8 near midnight
I am most miserable. Most of the day I wore wet clothes, as a heavy rain accompanied us to Paris, so I am cold. Yet I wanted to set this all down before I forget. We are back from the witch, and she refused to see us. The witch defied the queen, her guards, and all of her wrath, but still we were not allowed admittance to her home. Up until the last moment, I did not know who would go on this journey with me, but in the end it was the queen, her son, her attendants, and six guards. The queen had handpicked those to come with us, and I should have known that the day would be filled with disappointment as the rain would not stop. It rained and turned cold. The wind blew the rain sideways at times, and we faced becoming wet each time we had to leave the carriage. The men on their horses must have been bitterly uncomfortable in such weather. I had hoped that Clarissa would come on the journey with us, but that was not to be. She did see us off, waving to me as we pulled away. I hoped to see Henri and to talk with him before I left, yet he did not show himself to us. I do not know where he is or when he will return.
We set off to the witch’s, which was in a crowded section of Paris. Apart from the weather, the ride over was quiet enough. We all kept mostly to ourselves, watching the rain and the thick mud on the road. When we arrived at the house, I was a bit surprised because I had expected the witch to live alone in the countryside, thinking she lived in a small hut, near an overgrown garden, filled with herbs that she used for her potions. Yet her home was a small house near the Seine, the streets so narrow that our carriage forced others to the side of the street.
When we arrived, I remained calm, knowing that becoming nervous would not help me at all. I sat with my arms folded, wondering what would happen, focusing on the fact that this was only the first step along a difficult road. I saw the queen’s men-at-arms announce our arrival at the door, and they were refused entry.
The captain came back, in the driving rain, and opened the carriage door and then kneeled in the mud. The rain streamed down him and he delivered the message.
“Your Majesty, the witch has asked me to inform you that we are to return on June 17th during the day of the full moon.” He swallowed and continued, “She declines to see you today.”
He bowed his head low, refusing to show his face.
Even I flinched in surprise and quickly glanced over to the queen, trying to gauge her reaction. For her part, she remained calm, but her steely response frightened me. “Tell the witch that we will see her now!”
Looking uncomfortable, the captain rose from the mud and headed back to the witch’s home. I wrapped my blanket closer around me and kept my eyes down. I did not wish to make eye contact with the queen. I could sense her anger, boiling up, and I did not want to give her any cause to direct it at me.
In a few minutes, the captain returned again. He knelt in the mud and shook his head and said, “Your Majesty, she still refuses. Would you like us to use force?”
With great patience, he waited for the queen’s response and he soon received it. “Break down the door. We wish to enter immediately.”
The queen’s attendants helped us out of the carriage and we stood with our parasols over us, but the mud soaked our feet and the rain could not be stopped. People looked out their windows at us, most likely wondering who we were and what trouble we were causing. The captain banged on the witch’s door with his armored fist and shouted to her, demanding that the door be opened. On the third time, he tried to break the door and failed, falling back without damaging the door at all. Two other guards tried to break the door, running full into it with their armored shoulders, and also failed. In the rain, for the next quarter of an hour, they tried using weapons, clubs, and, most creatively, a log to smash the door down, yet all attempts failed. They tried to break through the small window that had been shuttered, but again, to no avail.
We stood in the rain and waited. I glanced over at the prince and he looked concerned, wondering why the door or window could not be broken. He avoided looking at me, but I could see him curious. After another quarter of an hour, the captain of the guard returned to the queen. His face was red, and he was out of breath. He knelt in the mud before her and said, “Your Majesty, I am sorry but we cannot win purchase on the door. Some magic protects it.”
He lowered his head and waited. Imagining the queen could use magic herself, I half expected her to conjure up a hellfire to burn the door down, but, alas, she had no such power. She stormed past the captain and to the small house. She touched the door, and from inside a woman, hard to tell if she were young or old, said, “Listen to me well. I will not see you today. Return on the 17th of June during the full moon, but leave now and go get dry as you are not welcome today.”
The queen stopped short, removed her hand from the door and shouted back, “I demand to see you. Open this door and attend me!”
To our amazement, the door opened. Fearless, the queen entered and we moved closer to see inside. But she came out after only a few minutes, her face angry. Clenched in her hand was a rolled up scroll.
She came up to me and thrust the scroll at me. “Read it. Read it now!”
Confused, I grabbed the scroll from her and saw that a tag had my name on it. I stammered some nonsense response and the queen bit back, “I tried to open it and cannot do so. Open it now!”
I pulled at the tag and the red silk tie came away, and I unrolled the scroll. On it, only one line of text. I read it aloud, unsure of what to make of it. “The heart has its reasons which Reason knows not.”
The queen grabbed the scroll from my hand, looking at both sides and then gave it back to me. She turned and rushed to the carriage. The prince followed closely next to her and asked, “Mother, what did you see inside?”
She stopped, standing in the rain with no parasol, and said, “Nothing was inside. No furniture, clothing, or instruments of any kind. I only found the scroll in the center of the room.”
We followed her back inside the carriage and the queen ordered that we return to the Château with much haste. The men-at-arms mounted their horses and we were off. The prince and I exchanged glances on the way back, but we remained quiet. The queen closed her eyes and feigned sleep, but I could see her eyes twitching. I do not think I had ever seen her so angry and so powerless before. There was nothing for her to do but accept defeat and for us to go.
The rain did not stop until after we returned to the Château. The queen retired to her rooms, and I have not seen or heard from her since. The prince was also not to be found. I suspect he simply wished to be away from me and counted his blessings that he had more time to be on his own before seeing the witch. I asked for Henri, but no one knew where he was. I chose to have a quiet dinner alone in my room, to think and reflect on the day, but Clarissa came to see me.
She knocked on my door and I asked the attendant to allow her to enter. In her hands, she held a bouquet of fresh flowers from the side garden. She offered them to me. “Will you see me?”
I took the flowers from her and smelled them. “Of course, you are my friend.” I dismissed my attendant and she curtsied and left us alone.
- Writer
