by Rock, Judith
Charles’s mouth opened in dismay. He saw the importance of supporting Père La Chaise, whom he’d met and liked. But the thought of playing the courtier, even briefly, to a king he detested made him feel mulish. Le Picart held up a warning hand. “You will go as Père Jouvancy’s servant and caretaker and relieve him from as much effort as possible. You have some medical knowledge from your soldiering; you can help look after him, if need be.” His shrewd gray eyes measured Charles. “You will do all of that for the good of the Society.”
“I will welcome his assistance,” Jouvancy agreed.
Charles held out his hands. “But who will teach the senior rhetoric class? And take my place assisting in the morning grammar class?” He knew it was useless, and unwise, but he kept trying. “And we begin full ballet and tragedy rehearsals so soon—”
The rector cut him off. “You will be gone only a few days. We can certainly replace you in the classes. Père Bretonneau has often taught rhetoric.”
“Père Bretonneau will do very well,” Jouvancy said. “And while we are gone, Maître du Luc and I can work on performance plans and finish the livret.” He smiled happily at Charles. “Have you ever been at court, maître?”
“No, mon père.” Nor had he ever wished to be, Charles didn’t say, folding his hands. He looked up and saw Le Picart watching him and seeing—as usual—more than Charles wanted seen. Charles forced obedience across his tongue.
“I will do my best, mon père,” he said. “For Père Jouvancy.”
“And for our king.” Le Picart emphasized every word.
“With all our hearts,” Jouvancy said, making the words sound like a liturgical response in the Mass.
Charles bowed his head, letting Le Picart take the gesture for agreement if he would.
***
Click here for more books by Judith Rock
Berkley titles by Judith Rock
The Rhetoric of Death
The Eloquence of Blood
A Plague of Lies
eSpecials
Pernelle’s Escape: A Rhetoric of Death Novella