Jean Genie
Copyright© 2026 by Rachael Jane
Chapter 67: Versailles
The day of Nicole’s attendance at the queen’s procession arrives. Weeks of practise have honed Nicole’s skills in etiquette. Louise considers her niece to be ready, which is high praise in itself.
Versailles rises from the countryside like a gilded mirage. Nicole stares at it from the carriage window, her breath catching as the palace comes into view; the endless wings of pale stone, the rows of tall windows glittering in the morning sun, and the gardens stretching outward in perfect symmetry. She presses a hand to her chest, overwhelmed.
“Aunt Louise,” she whispers, “it’s ... enormous.”
Louise sits beside her, composed as ever. “It is the heart of France. Remember that.”
Nicole nods, though her eyes remain fixed on the palace. Her excitement hums through her like a pulse. I feel it in the bracelet ... bright, trembling, and ever hopeful.
The carriage rolls through the gates, stopping briefly while the guards glance at Louise’s papers, before waving them through. Nicole inhales sharply as they enter the vast courtyard, where nobles, servants, and petitioners move like currents in a river.
‘Don’t stare’, I whisper into her mind.
Nicole straightens, adjusting her posture. She still hasn’t summoned me, and she still believes my words are her own intuition. However, the warmth of the bracelet on her wrist is starting to intrigue her.
Louise notices Nicole’s posture. “Good. You must appear accustomed to this.”
Nicole swallows. “I’ll try.”
Louise’s lips curve faintly. “Trying is not enough. You must succeed.”
Inside, Versailles is a world of gold.
Nicole steps into the Hall of Mirrors, and her breath leaves her entirely. Light pours through tall windows, striking the mirrors and scattering across the marble floor. Crystal chandeliers hang overhead like frozen rain. The air smells faintly of polish and perfume.
Nicole whispers, “It’s like walking inside a dream.”
Louise’s voice is low. “It is a stage. And you must learn your part.”
Nicole nods, though her eyes remain wide. Courtiers glide past them ... women in gowns of silk and brocade, men in embroidered coats and powdered wigs. Their movements are precise, their expressions controlled, their conversations soft and strategic. Nicole watches them with awe, trying to imitate their grace.
I whisper. ‘Slow your steps’. ‘Lift your chin’. ‘Don’t let your gaze dart’.
She adjusts each time, accepting the instructions but not the source.
Louise leads her through the hall, toward a smaller chamber where young noblewomen gather. Nicole’s heart races. This is the group she hopes to join ... the prospective ladies‑in‑waiting.
Louise stops at the threshold. “Remember: speak little, listen much.”
Nicole nods.
Louise steps forward. “Mesdames, may I present my niece, Mademoiselle Nicole de Marillac from Burgundy.”
Heads turn. Eyes assess. Fans lift. Nicole curtsies, her movement careful and practised.
A tall girl with dark hair and sharp eyes speaks first. “Burgundy, is it? How provincial.”
Nicole’s cheeks flush. “Yes. But I am honoured to be here.”
Another girl, softer in manner, smiles. “We were all provincial once.”
The dark‑haired girl lifts her chin. “Some more than others.”
Louise’s gaze sharpens, but she says nothing. Nicole feels the sting, but she keeps her posture steady.
I whisper. ‘Don’t react. She wants you to falter. She’s baiting you’.
Nicole inhales, calming herself.
The softer girl steps closer. “I am Claire de Montreuil. It is a pleasure.”
Nicole smiles gratefully. “And I am Nicole.”
Claire gestures toward the others. “We are all here to be evaluated. Ready for the next time the queen decides she wants new ladies-in-waiting. Some will be chosen. Some will not. A bit like a cattle market, I suppose.”
Nicole nods. “I understand.”
Claire’s eyes soften. “Do you?”
Nicole hesitates. “Well, I ... hope to.”
Claire gives her a sympathetic look. “It’s not only grace they judge. It is loyalty. Discretion. The ability to endure humiliation without complaint.”
Nicole’s stomach tightens.
Louise’s voice cuts in. “Nicole will learn.”
Claire nods politely. “Of course.”
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