Chapter 18: Versailles

I left the Paris ‘appartement’ behind and made reservations at one of the many overpriced Bed & Breakfast style inns located in the village (also called Versailles) surrounding the great palace.

The lines were too long, even for those with prepaid tickets, but I would endure the wait. I had a ticket that was limited to the Palace, for what need had I to spend my time in the old out buildings?

Despite my own acquaintance with the palace, I decided to take one of the tours that took visitors into rooms and areas that were normally off limits to the casual visitor.

Oddly enough, even though I had been a resident of the palace for a couple years, there were areas such as the Queens private chambers that had been off limits even to me. Others, like the Kings private rooms, I had only been in several times to consult with his regular physicians, and even then, never into his inner rooms like his bed chambers. So I finally entered into these ‘holy of holies,’ long after the Kings and Queens had been laid in their graves.

I was saddened by the sparseness of original furnishings. During the horror of the Revolution much of the furniture had been either destroyed or stolen and sold. The King’s desk had just been restored to the palace through a purchase from the English branch of the Rothschild family for something like 15 million Euros!

Of course, the tours all ended in the most famous room in the palace, the ‘Hall of Mirrors,’ where we were free to wander and admire.

I found myself back at a window facing out over the gardens looking at the same fountain where I had first met my eternal love, my soul, my Aurora, some 325 plus years before. I stood there reflecting on God’s way to create a hell on earth for me. Twice I had found her and twice I had lost her. My grief threatened to overwhelm me and I began to wonder why I had such an irrational if not masochistic desire to return to the place of my tragic loss.

Suddenly, though, I felt a strange change in the ether. The chatter and noise of the hundreds of people in the great room went still. The gardens were empty, vacant. I was disoriented; my head was reeling.

Then, from the other side of the room, came the tapping sound of a single pair of shoes walking in my direction. I turned towards the sound. The room is a long one and all I could see at the other side of the room was a thick fog like unto none that I had ever seen before. Still there came the clacking sound of heels on the floor.

Gradually a figure began to emerge from the mist; a woman with blond hair and the fairest of skin, wearing a red dress trimmed with lace and gold brocade. The very dress that my dearest Aurora wore the first night that we met in Louis’ palace.

I fell to my knees unable to stand in the presence of my lost love.

The phantom began to rush to me and enveloped me in her arms, my face at waist level, clinging to her body.

“Oh, my dearest Christian! Oh, how I’ve missed you!”

“Aurora! My love, my dearest! This cannot be! This must be an illusion; perhaps an hallucination ... My mind must be failing me. But you seem so real. So alive.”

She laughed with that sound that thrilled my soul and pulled me to my feet. We stood there with our hands touching looking into each other’s eyes.

“Well, my love, God can work miracles, n’est çe pas? Perhaps this is one. Perhaps it is the result of the eternal love between us. Do you remember when I first asked you if you loved me?”

“Of course. I replied, ‘I said yes, today and forever.’”

She smiled that angelic smile at me and nodded her head in agreement.

“Just so. And I loved you also that day and will love you forever as well.

“It was to my eternal regret that I could not be with you as we wished, but I have watched over you always.

“I watched as you raised our son to be a fine and honorable man. I saw how you took care of our family during the terrible years. And I watched as you had many women! Oh my, Christian, you are a rogue and a scoundrel!” She laughed again. “But I understand; no woman born could possibly refuse you. I also saw that you never gave your heart to any of them. Oui?”

“But this time — my image reborn many generations beyond my lifetime — you have given your heart to her, haven’t you?”

“Yes I have. I could not help myself because she is you reincarnated. She has the same soul, the wit, the charm and the love that I found with you. I’m sorry if I have fallen in love with your reflection.”

She smiled at me gently.

“I know dear Christian. And I am glad. It doesn’t diminish your love for me, nor mine for you. And you deserve to live a rich and full life with her. She is more than just a reflection — she is the woman I would have wished to be.”

At that point, I choked up.

“But I have lost her. I should have told her of my ‘nature’ and let her decide if she could be with a monster such as I. I feared her rejection too much, so I postponed and procrastinated, and she discovered my secret accidentally. So I have lost her anyway. I cannot find her to explain or to beg her forgiveness. And I am lost — je suis perdu! I have even thought of ending it all by my own hand.”

“Love, do not despair,” she told me, “I cannot let you descend into such a low state of mind.” She smiled again and bent over and kissed me — such a kiss that I had not had in over 300 years. It caused my spirit to lift, even as she lifted my body up from the floor.

Her eyes twinkled.

“Did you ever reflect on your desire to return to Versailles at this moment in time?” I stood silent.

“Perhaps your heart was guiding you to where you should seek out your love. Or perhaps I might have come to you by night in your dreams whispering ‘sweet Christian, come visit me where we first met so that we could be together at least once more?”

Aurora waved her hand in one of those archetypical French gestures dismissing the speculation.

“Christian! Your prayers are answered.”

Just as suddenly as the sounds of the tourists had disappeared, noise came again from the far end of the room. The mist was much lighter and I could see a tour group entering the Hall on the far side, guided by one of docents.

“And we end our tour of Versailles here in the Hall of Mirrors. Please enjoy yourselves for the rest of your time here at the grand palace of the Sun King, Louis XIV, and feel free to ask me any questions that you may have.”

Then the docent turned and began walking towards Aurora and me. The fog enveloped the tourists and soon only one person began emerging through the mist — the second incarnation of Aurora! The Aurora of the 21st century.

She wasn’t really paying attention and seemed preoccupied until with a start she stopped where she stood and starred at her Great-’grand-mère’ and me. She was speechless. In truth, wouldn’t you be also?

She was dressed in a very professional style, in a grey woolen jacket over a white blouse with lace showing between the lapels. She had a matching skirt and black shoes with low heels.

She finally gasped, “Christian? Is that truly you? And is that ... is that?”

It was Aurora who answered.

“Oui, ma chère, c’est moi. Yes, my dear. It is I, Aurora Stephanie Marie Molyneux, l’Comptesse d’F ... I understand that you and I share the same name and the same blood, although I passed from this vale of tears so long ago. Long before you were born. I am so glad to finally see you, flesh of my flesh.

“And yes, you were right — Christian was my lover, my love, my soul mate and the father of my son. He was everything to me; a beautiful and wondrous man and a father of our son beyond compare. Yet, you run from him and hide? Can you tell me why? Most women would do anything to be with him, to hold him and to love him.”

Aurora (the younger) looked at me, and then at Aurora (the elder — I’ll call her l’Comptesse) as if we were crazy. I suppose being quizzed by the ghost of your ancestor 325 some years in the past might confuse the most sane and stable of people.

She took a minute before answering.

“Madam, I agree with you that the man, who I perceived Christian to be, was the man you describe. But even in your own diary you call him ‘a monster’. When I realized that he had to be at least 325 years old. I ran, for my own survival depended on my escaping the evil spell that had captured my heart! He had lied to me by concealing that he was not human. Indeed, even now, I don’t know what he is.”

Then she broke down sobbing as she slowly crumpled to the floor. I started to move forward but a hand constrained me. Then the spirit of l’Comptesse moved to lift the young woman back to her feet.

“Come, my dear, stand up — we women of Normandy are strong and have always faced adversity. And now it is your turn to see and overcome the reality of your situation.