He's Fire And Ice And Rage

Reinette emerged into some of the more public rooms in Versailes, after sevel hours of formalizing the dinner menu for the latest performance in the petit salon, upstairs. The selections were always chosen carfelly, simple enough for a small number to serve, but satisfying enough that those guests brought up amoung the richest, most intricate foods could find no reason to complain. And then after, the King would always serve the coffee himself. It was his opportunity to play at the ordinary, before the customs and rules of royalty forced him to bed with a dozen men in his bedchamber.


She could only shake her head. How ridiculous the world could be sometimes.