Clad in white leather boots and a dove-gray doeskin tunic, the Master of the Hunt bowed low to his sovereign. Straightening, he reached up with a leather-gloved hand, handing Louis a wooden wand tipped with a boar's hoof. The King accepted the stick with grace, as he did at the start of every hunt. Intended for the King to use as protection against branches during the frantic hunt, it had evolved to iconic proportions of dignity and honor.
A broad smile appeared on Louis' face. He pumped the hand holding the wand into the air.
“Release the hounds!” the Master of the Hunt screamed, and they were off, La Chasse Royale led by Louis and no one else.
Jeanne held on to her reins with all her strength, following Henri while Olympe followed her. The fervor of the dogs spread to both horse and h
