Оценить:
 Рейтинг: 0

Revelation by Elohim. The Mystery of Diana de’Poitier

Автор
Год написания книги
2021
<< 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 ... 23 >>
На страницу:
4 из 23
Настройки чтения
Размер шрифта
Высота строк
Поля

King of France Francis 1 lost the war to the Spanish monarch. France lost to Spain. Francis, having experienced the bitterness of defeat, being himself twice wounded, was captured. But, negotiations were underway to release the king. Francis signed the Madrid Treaty that dismembered France. But, the king was not going to fulfill his obligations. Except for one thing, to give your sons hostage. Dauphin Francis and his brother Henry the Duke of Orleans. And so, on March 17, the French court, knightly at that time, did not lead the secular, riotous life adopted later. Quite modestly, he gathered in the castle, on the banks of the Bidasson River, where the ceremony of handing over the princes, hostages of Spain, was to take place. They were to be exchanged for the monarch of the state.

This morning the court gathered just to escort the princes into exile, into captivity. It was a foggy, gray morning and the de Brese couple were also present at this farewell departure of the little princes. The entire courtyard gathered in the semi-dark hall of the castle, awaiting the appearance of the princes.

And so they arrived. Announced: «His Highness Dauphin Francis Duke of Breton»! «His brother, Prince Heinrich, Duke of Orleans»! The entire court fell silent, awaiting the arrival of the princes. The door finally opened and two boys entered the hall. The princes were still quite children. The heir to the throne, Francis, was eight years old, and his brother Henry was barely seven years old. The heir to the throne was a blond child with beautiful white curls of hair. The eyes, which, already now, were filled with their own significance. His chin was lifted up proudly.

The entire court bowed to the future king. He responded with a slight nod of his head. His expensive robes with ruffles and bows sparkled with jewels. The feather on the hat bounced upward from his confident step. He paused importantly in the middle of the room.

All the nobles began to approach the prince in turn, welcoming and wishing a successful sailing and a speedy return. The boy nodded back dryly and with dignity. His brother, little Heinrich, was still a child. The two brothers were incredibly even strikingly different from each other, like day and night. And this was undoubtedly the most correct comparison.

Heinrich was a swarthy, black-haired, thin boy with thin legs and protruding knees and large eyes, incredibly black, like a dark lake. He was dressed relatively simply in comparison with his brother. Poitiers greeted the heir to the French crown, like the others, and stepped aside to make way for the others. Her husband found a group of men and talked about something with them, leaving Diana alone. She stood and looked at this blond child, but already almost the king and understood that these unfortunate children were going to distant Spain as captives and might not return. And suddenly she noticed little Heinrich. He stood aside quietly and alone. His face was frowned. He tried to be brave, but fear was clearly visible in his eyes. Her heart sank. She realized that Heinrich was simply forgotten. After all, he is only the second son of the king. Nobody came up and greeted him. No one wished him a good sail. Nobody cheered, hoping for a quick return. She felt so sorry for the unfortunate child that in this outburst of compassion she went to him through the crowd. She came up to him, squatting in a curtsy and greeted him. The child shuddered and looked at her in dismay. But, after a minute, he made a serious face and nodded importantly in response to her greeting. And suddenly she was seized with such compassion and pity for this abandoned, forgotten child that tears welled up in her eyes. And forgetting about all decency, she knelt down and hugged the boy to her, hugging him.

You’re scared, I know. She said softly to him, holding his shoulders. It seemed that the boy was about to cry. But, he held back his tears, and only slightly sobbed, looking at her. She continued.

Don’t be afraid! Nothing will happen to you! I promise you!

You must be strong! Do you hear me?

I will pray for you!

Know that there is a heart here in France that prays for you and your return.

The boy stopped sniffing and calmed down. Hope and faith in her words lit up in the children’s eyes. It seems that his fear has really disappeared. She got up from her knees and again crouched down in a curtsy away from him. The boy became serious again.

The princes were seated in the boat, and she slowly began to disappear into the fog, carrying them into the unknown. Diana and the entire courtyard stood on the shore. She raised her hand and waved goodbye to them. Male

Freedom

Black clouds are hanging over the de Brese estate. A cold, gray morning slipped from the sky like a drizzling rain. Making the world around us dull gray. The priest continued to speak over the cold, black burial hole in the de Brese family crypt. Finally, he finished his speech. The black hole with the body of the count was covered with a gravestone with a grinding noise. As if it had been swallowed by the toothless mouth of a monster. Diana stood over her husband’s grave. She was dressed in black mourning clothes and from this her already white face seemed almost unnaturally white. She gazed silently at the grave. The smell of the damp earth of the crypt, mixed with the smell of musty and dead body, hit my nose. It was the smell of death. Her daughters stood by. People pushed the stone, hiding the body of the count forever. The farewell of the living to the dead was over. She and her daughters returned to her mansion. The count’s funeral was completely exhausted by her constant visits and condolences. She was so tired that she collapsed into a chair by the fireplace. Her gaze involuntarily settled on the door. And suddenly, she understood. He will never go through this door again! Her husband is dead! And now she is a widow. She thought.

And then another thought rushed into her head.

No! She is not a widow! She is free! Free! From eternal humiliation. From his presence. From the smell of it in my bed. From his eternal discontent. She is free! The thought burned through the brain.

Free! As if reveling in the thought, she thought.

And the heart suddenly shuddered with joy for many years for the first time and unexpectedly for herself, revived. Her eyes suddenly flashed with fire, sparkled and lit up with life. As if she had been dead until that day. She abruptly got up from the chair in which she was sitting and almost ran to the window, throwing it wide open with a sharp movement. Fresh air burst into the room, outside the window was the same gloomy weather, it was damp, and it was drizzling with rain. She smelled the smell of rain mixed with the smell of wet earth and breathed in this life-giving scent deeply, closing her eyes in pleasure. She whispered delightedly, as if she had seen this world for the first time.

What a delightful day!

A smile lit up her face for a long time. Another thought came, replacing delight.

I’ll put up a monument! From a big, heavy stone! She smiled wider. Not noticing that he is speaking out loud.

I’ll erect a monument for you, Monsieur de Brese!

And I hope its weight will crush your bones in your crypt!

She almost cried out and her eyebrows came together menacingly on the bridge of her nose. And a picture from the past appeared before her eyes. As if it was only yesterday, and his voice is cutting, like a knife through her heart, with every word the count said.

How lucky you are, dear. You are now Countess de Brese. Her eyes flashed with fire. Excited by the memory, she continued to speak aloud.

I’ll put up a monument for you!

To make sure that if you want to get out of there, he will block your way! She finished contemptuously.

It will be very big! She added. Having finished his involuntary speech, and not noticing that he is speaking aloud to himself. Sighing with even greater pleasure deeply the scent of a chilly day.

The monument was surprisingly very large and heavy, it was hardly erected. When the workers finished with the installation, she let them go and was left alone at the count’s grave.

She spoke quietly, her appeal was to the count. As if the deceased count could hear her.

Hope you like your monument?

I hope monsieur! She added with a furrowed brow and sparkling eyes in a barely audible, trembling voice.

I hope he crushes you in your crypt! If you suddenly intend to get out of there, then this block will close your way!

A nervous shiver went through her, and her breathing became ragged with hatred for him. She began to breathe heavily, her lips tightened and turned blue. And the fists clenched and dug their nails into the meat. And suddenly, in a fit of deep hatred for him. She couldn’t help herself and spat on his grave.

That’s all you deserve from me! She cried out, straightening up. As if she finally got up from her knees over the years. And exhaling with relief, she added calmly and contemptuously.

This is all you deserve from the unworthy of you, Monsieur de Brise!

Hope you get devoured by worms!

She shot her gaze like a dagger at the monument. As if checking once again at the end, whether it is so strong and great. And making sure that this is so, proudly throwing her chin up, she turned sharply and walked firmly away. She never looked back.

Now sorting out her affairs, Poitiers realized that her husband had left her and her children nothing! He not only left them no funds, but also left exorbitant debts! Having laid the same and their estate. Everything was lost to them in gambling. The amounts of the debt were large and if it is not paid, then she and her children may simply lose everything. Including the estate. She was sitting in the office on the table and on the floor there were invoices, debt papers and papers on the estate pledged for debts. She couldn’t believe it. She sat silently resting her head on her hand. Things were nowhere worse.

What should she do?!

Where will she go after losing her estate?!

Where will her children be?!

What will happen to them?!

Despite the cold to her daughters, she still loved them. Always trying to take care of them, give them proper education and upbringing.

And most of all she was worried about the fact that having lost the estate, the girls will not be able to sanctify a good marriage party.

God! Who will need them?! Poitiers thought in despair.

Who will marry them?! If the world learns about their almost complete bankruptcy!

Besides, the poor things weren’t pretty anyway.

Among other problems with the estate, dark clouds soon thickened over her beloved father. He was accused of conspiracy and, along with other conspirators, was imprisoned. He could face execution. But, the full accusation had not yet been brought forward, which means there was hope.
<< 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 ... 23 >>
На страницу:
4 из 23