Published at 6th of May 2026 6:46 am

Chapter 947: Versailles

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Claire found herself at the Palace of Versailles not long after Bruno arrived. She was led to a seating area, where she found her mother, father, and siblings seated.

They all wore lavish outfits, suits, dresses, and accessories, specifically tailored for their bodies.

And across their chests were orders of chivalry, earned simply by their proximity to the House of Orleans.

The glittering jewels on her sister’s neck, and the extravagance of their dresses almost caused Claire to break out into laughter.

She had grown accustomed to spending time in Bruno’s court, and his court was a place for family, friends, and loved ones. Not sycophantic and parasitic aristocrats of a class that no longer existed.

By comparison, her appearance was far more casual and humble. She didn’t wear the lavish dress of a formal princess, but the attire of a young maiden from the Alps, who wished to be proper and comfortable.

Her family members who did recognize her gawked at Claire as if she had somehow reverted to a commoner. While those who didn’t simply handed their cups to the woman and spoke to her without the slightest eye contact.

"Be a doll, girl, and fetch me some more wine."

Claire stared at her little brother and gave him a look up and down, clearly not impressed by his pampered appearance.

He only then dignified her a glance when he realized she wasn’t fulfilling his orders.

"What are you deaf? Chop chop!"

The way he clapped his fingers together as if she were a trained hound caused Claire to laugh. Mostly because the man wore a French Royal Army Cadet uniform.

"Oh... that’s so cute, Lucien! Did you decide to greet your big sister while playing soldier? But with hands that soft, you won’t last five seconds on a real battlefield. Perhaps mother and father should have sent you to the Tyrolean Main Cadet Institute. Maybe then you would have gained some scars by now. Mensur is quite popular in Germany, especially among cadets."

Lucien scoffed, his composure cracking just enough to betray the sting of her words. His eyes trailed over her from head to toe, lingering on her attire with visible disdain.

"And what exactly would you know of battle, Claire?" he sneered, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve. "You look like you’ve wandered in from the countryside. No proper dress, no jewels... You hardly resemble a lady of House de Rochefort at all."

He straightened his posture, clinging to what little dignity he could muster.

"If anything, it seems Germany has stripped you of your refinement rather than improved it."

Claire glanced down at her clothes briefly before looking back up at him, utterly unimpressed.

"What would I know indeed? It’s not as if I spent the last few years dining at Le Loup de Prusse’s table as his guest."

The comment provoked a twitch in Lucien’s brow. He couldn’t respond. To mock what she just said would make him look like a fool. And would also potentially put their family in a bad light.

Le Loup de Prusse.... The French nickname for Bruno, earned by the fear and respect French soldiers had for the man during his earliest campaigns in the Orient.

It had stuck as the standard informal turn when referring to Bruno. Claire said it with pride, but a mixture of fear and reverence spread among her family and those near enough to hear her words.

Not reverence in the form of heartfelt respect, but respect for the power the man had wielded to crush their nation with utter domination during two wars.

He was equally despised and respected in the court of Versailles. The fact that Claire had found her way to his table meant that she had cast herself in a very different and difficult light.

Her mother’s hands shook as they gripped onto a teacup crafted from the most expensive porcelain, and gilded with French mosaics.

"Claire... Is what you say true? Why didn’t you ever tell us you were present at the Grand Prince... I mean the King of Alemannia’s court?"

Claire scoffed and rolled her eyes. Gazing around at the decadence and superfluous nature of Versailles.

"I mean, Mother, you never asked how I was spending the last few years of my life... You sent me there to study at an all-girl’s school hoping I would make contact with the local high nobility. And I did, but you never really asked whom I became acquainted with. Maria and Theresa von Zehntner are like sisters to me, and I was very much welcome in their home."

Home... the term was unusual to these French aristocrats. Court, Palace, Estate, and to a lesser extent, Villa. These were the terms they used to describe their residences.

For Claire to use such a word in her own native language, it wasn’t a mistranslation, it was a deliberate choice, and a shocking one to those keen enough to notice its subtleties.

But few did, because they were more shocked by the announcement that Claire had become so close to two Princesses of Alemannia that she considered them sisters.

Lucien fell back into his seat. His older sister, who had been so timid and shy the last time he saw her. Stood there and mocked him openly, and asserting her ties to House von Zehntner as if she were a member of its family.

It was an enormous blow to his pride as a future officer of the French Royal Army. But she paid Lucien no heed.

In fact, she could see the ghastly expressions on her mother’s and father’s faces. It lasted only a moment before their eyes met, and they silently communicated with a nod.

Then the two had reversed completely. They seemed almost too eager to learn about how Claire had spent her time abroad.

"So? You spent time at the Innsbruck Palace, that’s my girl! You said those girls are like sisters to you, does that mean you are surprising us with a betrothal to one of their brothers? Or perhaps cousins?"

Claire’s pride sank from her face and was instead replaced with disgust.

"No... Unfortunately, it was not my place to marry a Prince of Alemannia..." she muttered the last part beneath her breath in a wistful tone. "I should have known better..."

Her parents instantly realized something must have happened, and this was likely a fresh wound the girl was suffering from, so they didn’t push any further. Instead, they were quick to change the subject.

"Well, that’s fine. A fine Countess like you is better off marrying into the House of Orleans, wouldn’t you agree?"

Claire sighed and shook her head, the words Bruno spoke to her as they said their goodbyes flooded her mind and drowned out anything further her parents said to her.

Our happiness is a small price to pay for lasting peace between our two realms, wouldn’t you say, Claire?

A slight tear formed in her eye as she formed a bitter smile, nodding her head in agreement.

"It is indeed...."

Her words were not to the question her parents had proposed to her. But to the one that lingered in her mind.

She could tell she was about to break down and cry, as her parents began inquiring about which French prince to marry her off to. Prompting her to delicately break away from them.

"I apologize, it has been a long trip. And I need a moment to freshen up, please excuse me."

Claire didn’t wait for an answer, but she walked off aimlessly, wandering through the palace of Versailles.

Where to, she didn’t know. She just needed to be away... from everyone for a moment. She eventually found a restroom, where she took a moment to cry in the mirror.

For a moment, she barely recognized the girl staring back at her. Not the timid daughter of House de Rochefort... but something else entirely. Something forged elsewhere, in a place far removed from the hollow grandeur of Versailles.

It took longer than she thought to recompose herself and adjust her makeup so that there were no signs left that she had been in distress.

Claire took a deep breath and forced a smile across her face. Practicing until it was just right to be presentable. And when she did, she nodded thrice. Letting out an exhausted sigh as the words escaped her lips.

"No more tears, Claire... No more tears..."

She left the room and turned a corner. And there she saw him... Bruno, standing there, with the same practiced smile she had just forced upon herself.

He stood exactly as he always did: composed, immovable, untouched by the noise around him. A man who could stand anywhere, and yet never truly belonged to anything but his purpose.

Standing across from him was the French Princesa Isabelle, who was clearly over performing in an attempt to appease him.

Bruno knew it, Isabelle knew it, and she knew it... Their eyes met once, and a silent nod was made between them before Claire walked off once more to reconnect with her family. And Bruno returned to his duties entertaining the House of Orleans.

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