Chambre de Geneviève Guyot

She arrived at court late in the evening. After prayer she had a supper of chicken, some bread and wine, then summoned a servant.

"Summon my children Pierpont and Coralie to my room, I am their mother I should not have to come to them."

She had another set of candles lit and waited for her children as she sat, deep in thought.

When Pierpont was told of his mother's arrival at court he had given a booming laugh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. It had been a number of months since he had seen his mother, or the rest of the family, save Coralie, and he knew very well that this would be an interesting meeting.
He only hoped she would treat Coralie as she treated him.

Pierpont continued to laugh as he got dressed and tied his long hair back with the usual black ribbon. But as he looked at himself in the mirror, taking it down as he recalled that he was nearly 26 now, and he would be damned if his mother chided him.

Pierpont swaggered into his mother's chamber and found her seated. He gave a deep bow, "maman," he felt his hair fall over his shoulders.

She smiled as Pierpont entered the room, seeing at last how grown and handsome he'd become.

"My dear son, you look very well indeed."

Then she saw he was wearing his hair loose, as she had often told him it was more appropriate to wear it tied back.

"Pierpont...you are a civilized young man living in a civilized court. Pray tell, why do you insist on displaying yourself comme un fou... certainly even peasants know better," she said in a low, even tone.

"Alors.. sit with me, son. Tell me what you have been doing to better yourself since you arrived at court."

Coralie placed her ear upon the chamber door of her mother's room, nervously listening as she spoke to Pierpont. She swallowed, hearing her mother's voice, and a sudden ping of fear went through her heart and more a dreadful moment she felt ill.
She smoothed down the fabric of her gown, and straightened the French hood on her head, wearing it to please her mother, though many of the ladies at court did without them.

She nervously nodded at the servant to open the door, and she timidly stepped inside, finding her mother and brother waiting.

Coralie dipped into the lowest curtsey she could, the kind she would always give the king when she saw him. "Mere," she breathed, nervously. She did not move for fear...

Geneviève looked up as her daughter entered the room, and kept a watchful, critiquing eye on her as she curtsied. She did a quick study of the girl's gown, her headdress which was slightly askew, and her overall posture and tone of voice. She made a small sigh of approval.

"You may rise, daughter." She said, her voice cold as steel. "Your gown is cut too low, you could pass for an alehouse slut. Not that you have any breasts to show off, you are as flat chested as a teenage boy." She paused. "Fix your hood, you look as though you've been tumbling in the hay with a groomsman."

She took a sip of watered wine.

"And you? I trust you have not been a nuisance to the dear queen with all your silly talk of dancing and poetical nonsense?"

She barely cast an eye on Coralie as she spoke to her.

Pierpont smirked as he plopped down in a chair beside his mother. He looked at her for a moment, then gave a laugh, reaching for her hand and planting a kiss on it.
"I have missed you mother," he sighed, ignoring her comment about his hair. He flipped his hair back behind his shoulders as he leaned back in the chair. "I'm afraid I haven't been here long enough to truly look around," he shrugged, "besides, I hear it is rather dull, as the king is gone on business."
Pierpont turned to the door, smiling as Coralie walked in, and he leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow as she gave a curtsey.
But of course, their mother cared not for that, and he cringed at her biting verbal attack. He inhaled loudly and released it, his nostrils flaring as he looked down at his hands, slouching in his seat.

He looked up, rubbing his mouth with the back of his hand. "Actually, maman, you will find Coralie is in the height of fashion at court. Seeing as there seem to be some rather, different, women here," he tried to help her. "I hear the queen wears the same style, perhaps without the tilted hood?"

She did give a fond smiled to her son, and a bit of her iciness melted away.

"I just hope you have been behaving yourself properly, my son. It would not do to create the Guyot name into a synonym for vice and sin."

She cast a glance at Pierpont as he tried to bring to light Coralie's qualities and apparently how well she was fitting in at court.

"Perhaps, but I never saw such a reason for the silly new styles. Just because the queen wears them does not make it right for a young woman to emulate it."

Geneviève was persistent in not giving in.

Coralie flinched at her mother's words, and as she stood to her feet from the curtsey, she lowered her head, trying hard to force her lips not to quiver. She opened her mouth to speak, yet was glad when Pierpont defended her, as she did not know if she was brave enough to yet argue with her mother, though she had been on her own for quite some time at court now.

She bit her tongue, she wanted with all her might to yell "The king likes my body!!!'" but she bit her tongue, knowing it was childish...and useless.

Coralie shook her head, pouting. "No, her majesty has made me her head lady, and...and she even gave me this dress." She bit her lip a little, "and the king and queen like my performances and fetes."

She placed her hands together behind her back and nodded. She glided to a seat beside Pierpont, and sat at its edge, keeping her back straight.

She looked at Coralie and arched a carefully plucked eyebrow.

"You mean to say that the queen favors you? It is quite a big responsibility to be the chief lady-in-waiting to the Queen of France. Personally, I would have chosen someone older, with more experience..." she paused a bit, and sipped some wine. "Then again, I am not the queen."

She smiled complacently at the both of them.

"And you both have kept up with your studies? Your Latin, rhetoric, mathematics? It does no good to let the brain waste away on silly hobbies," she spit the word out as if it left a bitter taste on her tongue, and cast her eye on Coralie as she said it.

Coralie gave a small nod, "yes, mother, I know of the responsibility...yet, many of her ladies are very lazy or never in attendance as they are with...men," she muttered a little.

She looked down, nervously, and looked at Pierpont to see how he would answer. She had completely forgot about all her lessons and education, as there were constantly more interesting things to do at court.

"I have tried to keep up mother, yet, I am often busy at my duties," she bit her lip.

She clucked her tongue upon hearing such things from Coralie's own lips.

"I sincerely hope and pray the despicable behavior of those 'ladies' does not rub off on you, Coralie. Do you remember the Delacour family we used to associate with? Their youngest daughter is not quite as old as you and has already found herself in trouble, with no marriage prospects. She will likely live as a nun after she gives birth to her bastard."

She looked at her only daughter and sighed heavily as though the young woman was a fool.

"You should always make time for study. Do you think a man wants a fool for a wife?"

Pierpont gave a sigh, leaning further back in the chair as he kicked his feet up upon a chair across from him. "Well, maman, as you know, I have been quite busy with other things that required much of my attention, as I am constantly in training," he threw his hair back behind his shoulders as he readjusted himself in the chair.

Pierpont nodded, looking at Coralie. "I'm afraid I have to agree with mother here," he nodded. He looked at their mother, "you could not imagine the women here. They are simply vile, and I am certain the Delacour girl, much like Marie-Elaine back home, would rather fit in here swimmingly." He snickered deeply, as he was slightly drunk still from the night before. "I myself have perhaps been approached by a widow," he wiped his lips, shaking his head, "the women here are loose and stupid, pardon my bluntness. Nothing like Coralie, though, and I quite imagine that is why she has caught some attention," he winked at Coralie. Deep down he wanted to tell his mother about how Coralie, the little "simple" girl before them, had won he heart of the king himself, just so their mother could see that she did have prospects.

"And how has your training progressed?" she asked, so proud of her son.

She shook her head at the thought of her own children among such filth, but was secretly glad they seemed to be at the top of the pyramid, moral-wise.

"That is one thing I have never admired about the court here. The old King Louis never held such a disreputable court, not until King Francis came along and made every other woman his mistress." She clicked her teeth.

"But, I am glad to hear there is nary a word ill-spoken of either of you. I want you both to have the chances I never had, and already you both have advantages I'd never dreamt of. Keep to the straight path and you will always find yourself rewarded."

Coralie placed a hand to her mouth at the news of the Delacour girl. She shook her head at the horrible situation, and bit her lip.
She nodded, "Yes, mother, I will return to my studies."

Coralie nodded as Pierpont spoke, and she found herself giving a small laugh as he spoke of the widow. She threw a hand to her mouth to be quiet, yet she found it funny. She caught his wink, and she bit her lip trying not to smile at the thought of the king. She looked down so her mother would not see...She felt a ping of anger as her mother spoke of the king's mistress, yet she swallowed, as she knew it was true. Yet part of her remembered when she so badly wanted to be with the king as well...

She nodded, again, "Yes mother."

She shot an icy look at Coralie as the young girl laughed.

"Is it really so amusing? You have no respect for others, and that is to be blamed on your father, he treated you both too kindly and never punished either of you."

Pierpont put up a hand between the two, "now I do seem to remember plenty of times when papa would give us a swift hand or lecture when we needed it," he held up a finger, frowning. "And anyway, I am certain whatever papa failed to teach me, was beaten into me by superiors at the academy and during my training," he grinned.

Pierpont leaned back in his chair. "Besides, maman, you have to admit it is rather comical, the way these women, even the older ones who should know better, throw themselves at men's feet!" He gave a laugh, "I mean, it's absurd!"

Pierpont nodded toward Coralie, "You would be surprised how well our little Coralie does at court, all while maintaining the proper virtue and demeanor of a lady." Pierpont smiled, trying not to hint too much, as he wanted Coralie to tell their mother herself.
"Wasn't there a soldier you told me about, who liked your company? And the queen and king themselves?" he raised an eyebrow, pushing her more, hoping she would tell their mother of how much she's changed.

She smiled acquiescently at her son.

"If and when he did, it was because I had to ask him to. It is never womanly conduct to discipline the children, that is the husband's concern. But I am glad you had some sense instilled in you at military training."

She reached over and kissed Pierpont's cheek.

"Some women are not satisfied and they need lust to boil their blood. In honesty I feel sorry for them. They will never know the joys of having a family to grow."

She frowned when she heard Coralie was keeping company with a soldier.

"Is this man gentlemanly towards you? I hope you have been keeping yourself proper before him."

She knew too well how her daughter liked to befriend people so easily, and sing and dance, all that silliness.

Coralie's mouth shut as her eyes went wide, and her gaze moved to the floor. Her heart sank for a moment as she watched her mother kiss Pierpont's cheek and she looked further down, playing with her fingers as she listened to them speak together. Her eyes went wide as Pierpont brought up Christophe in the king, and without thinking, she looked up, frowning at him slightly.

She bit her lip, looking up at her mother, eyes wide. "He has been nothing but a gentleman, and we are only friends," she nodded, "we both love music and he has watched my shows." She looked down to mutter, "he has even taught me how to ride a horse."

She sighed nervously, "the king, also, has been nothing but a gentleman."

She sighed impatiently.

"Heavens girl, is that all you speak of? The king? Mind your words, or some would think you have spread your affections quite far... our king and a lowly soldier."

She glanced to Coralie.

"At least he has got that out of the way. So you can ride now? I suppose now you will want new riding gowns, and boots, and gloves and all."

She leaned over to inspect a curl of Coralie's hair.

"It's tangled. Brush it."

Pierpont gave a long sigh as she leaned over and kissed his cheek. He knew damned well that she perhaps did it to spite Coralie, and he also knew that she had been influencing his decisions when it came to the heart since he came of age.

Pierpont leaned his head on his hand, raising an eyebrow. "I hardly think that is spreading affections far." He looked at his hands, "Compared to the other ladies at court, I should think she's kept the men at arms length." He turned to Coralie and winked "Like a regular Anne Boleyn," he jested, knowing it would perhaps get on his mother's nerves.

Pierpont gave an exasperated laugh, throwing his head back upon the back of the chair. "My hair's tangled. Quite tangled," he reached for a strand, "and why not? I've apparently been rolling around in the hay with various women and off in battle," he snickered, sarcastically. He gave a deep sigh, closing his eyes from the tiredness of the night of drinking before. "Are we to take dinner here, maman?"

Coralie frowned, a sudden bit a rage pulsing through her. "He is not a lowly soldier!" she snapped. She blinked, looking about the room as she took a deep breath, suddenly looking down as her cheeks reddened. "And the king cares for me...as well," she began to stutter.
She shook her head, "no, Mother, I...I would only if you wish me to have them," she began to play with her fingers nervously.

Coralie took her hands and began to detangle the curl as she listened to Pierpont. Her eyes went wide at the mention of Anne Boleyn, and she turned her head, trying hard to stifle a laugh. She closed her eyes, shaking her head at Pierpont's behavior, though she knew he did it to irk her.

She rolled her eyes at the mention of Anne Boleyn.

"Ah, do not say that name in my presence! That whore of Christendom is going to be the ruin of the English realm, mark my words. No woman gets ahead being coy. Remember Coralie, there is a wide difference in being virtuous and playing hard to get."

At her daughter's sudden eruption, Geneviève stared wide eyed then regained her composure.

"You both are against me, aren't you?" She glanced from each to the other as they seemed to share in taunting her after she mentioned Coralie's hair. "Do not take pride in doing so; I am only guiding you as the Lord bids all parents to do."

She sighed, leaning back in her chair as Pierpont mentioned food. She could not stomach it just now.

"Please, call for some for yourselves, I want only a little bread and cheese."

She turned to Coralie and gave her an uncharacteristically tender look.

"I shall speak to your father about getting new riding apparel. I'm sure he'd love to spoil you."

Pierpont looked down at the ends of his hair, twirling it around in his fingers. "I think it rather amusing that the only woman who could seem to keep the king seems more French than English," he grinned.

Pierpont turned to face Coralie. "I'm afraid I have to agree with maman, here," he nodded. "There are too many harlots here, and not enough ladies."

Pierpont turned his head away, rolling his eyes. He placed a hand over his mother's, "No, of course not maman. It is just Coralie and I have only seen each other a few times in the past year, and I need a bit of laughter after that-," he stopped to pinch the bridge of his nose, "horrible experience we call the military," he laughed faintly. "I'm sorry, maman."

Pierpont smiled, "I do rather like that everywhere we go, there are servants." He stood up and moved toward the door, turning his head to look at Coralie. "Fancy anything, petit?"

Coralie nodded as her mother spoke, though she felt somewhat uncomfortable as well at the mention of Anne Boleyn.

She nodded again, looking at her mother with guilty eyes wide. "I know, mother...I-...I am sorry, too."

Her eyes widened, as this was the first act of kindness her mother showed since her arrival. "Thank you, mother." She stopped, turning to face her, again. "Mother...when will papa be home? Or will he come to court?" she blinked hopefully. "And what of Chevelier? Pierpont and I have not heard from him in some time."

She laughed at Pierpont's confession. She straightened up in her seat, "perhaps some sugared almonds?" she grinned.