Jean Genie
Copyright© 2026 by Rachael Jane
Chapter 68: The First Rumblings
Paris is louder than it used to be. It was never like this when Elizabeth was alive.
Nicole first notices the change in small ways ... shouts drifting through the open windows, crowds gathering at street corners, provocative pamphlets left on café tables. She hears arguments in the marketplace, sees men gesturing angrily with loaves of bread, watches women whisper behind their hands.
But she doesn’t yet understand. Not fully. Not the depth of the undercurrent of discontent, nor the dangers it poses.
One morning, she walks with Louise through the Rue Saint‑Honoré, her cloak drawn close against the early spring chill. The Rue Saint‑Honoré holds a special memory for me. It’s where Marie lived over a hundred years ago. Today, the street is crowded ... vendors advertising their wares, carts rattling over cobblestones, children darting between stalls. Nicole tries to focus on Louise’s instructions about court etiquette, but her attention keeps drifting.
A group of men stand near a bakery, voices raised.
“It’s robbery!” one shouts. “Bread costs more every week!”
“Let the nobles starve for once!” another replies.
Louise stiffens. “Do not look,” she murmurs.
Nicole tears her gaze away, but the words linger.
“Aunt Louise ... why are they so angry?”
Louise’s voice is clipped. “The people are restless. Bread is scarce. Prices rise. They blame the court.”
Nicole frowns. “But the queen...”
Louise cuts her off. “The queen is a symbol. Symbols attract blame.”
Nicole falls silent.
I whisper from the bracelet. ‘Listen.’
She does. But she struggles to understand what she is hearing.
That evening’s soiree in Louise’s salon feels different. The candles burn as brightly as ever. The musicians play as always. Guests arrive in silk and brocade as usual. But the conversations are sharper, the laughter thinner, the nervous glances toward the windows more frequent.
Nicole sits beside Claire de Montreuil, who has come to visit. Claire’s fan flicks open and closed with restless energy.
“Have you heard?” Claire whispers. “There were riots near the Hôtel de Ville.”
Nicole’s eyes widen. “Riots?”
Claire nods. “Over bread. Over taxes. Over everything.”
Nicole glances toward Louise, who is speaking with a pair of nobles near the fireplace. “Aunt Louise says it will pass.”
Claire’s smile is sad. “Your aunt is wise. But even she cannot stop the tide.”
Nicole’s stomach tightens. “Is it truly so serious?”
Claire leans closer. “Nicole ... the ordinary people are starving. They blame the king. They blame the queen. They blame anyone with powdered hair and silk shoes.”
Nicole looks down at her beautiful gown. “But I...”
Claire touches her hand gently. “You have a kind heart. But kindness is not protection.”
Nicole swallows hard.
I whisper. ‘Remember this.’
She nods slightly as though she hears my words. Claire doesn’t notice.
Later, Louise calls Nicole to her study ... a room lined with books, maps, and letters sealed with wax. Louise sits at her desk, reading a pamphlet with a deepening frown.
Nicole hesitates at the door. “Aunt Louise?”
Louise looks up. “Come in.”
Nicole steps forward. “Claire said there were riots.”
Louise sighs. “Yes. There were. The king’s soldiers were slow to restore order. There is likely to be more unrest.”
Nicole sits. “Will the riots reach us?”
Louise’s expression is controlled, but her eyes betray concern. “Paris is changing. The people demand reforms. They demand bread. They demand justice.”
Nicole frowns. “Justice?”
Louise taps the pamphlet. “Justice is what they call it. But a redistribution of wealth is a more accurate term.”
Nicole leans forward. “What does it say?”
Louise hesitates, then hands it to her.
Nicole reads the first lines aloud. “The monarchy bleeds the people dry. The queen spends while children starve. The nobles feast while the poor rot.”
Her voice falters.
Louise takes the pamphlet back. “Lies. Exaggerations. Dangerous words.”
Nicole’s heart races. “Do people believe them?”
Louise nods. “Many do. Too many.”
Nicole looks down at her hands. “Aunt Louise ... will this affect my presentation at court?”
Louise’s expression softens. “Nicole, do not worry. The queen still holds her court. You will still be presented.”
Nicole exhales in relief. But Louise’s eyes flicker with doubt. I feel it, although Nicole does not. Not yet.
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