Disclaimer: The characters of Le Chevalier D'Eon do not belong to me. May contain spoilers for the anime.
Praslin is another character that is so minor a role that he almost disappears into the woodwork at Versailles. This is probably the last chapter of this series as I believe I've covered everyone. I will be continuing writing for this fandom under Minuet. Mostly fluffy interactions between the main characters.
Lord Sandwich got off easy for his involvement in the Revolutionary Brethren. What about the situation on the other side of the Channel?
Praslin: Unfortunate Events
I am ruined. How did it all fall apart? The Duke of Orleans captured and imprisoned like some common criminal. The charges? Treason against the throne, fomenting dissent against Louis XV the Blessed…
Then the Queen, Her Majesty, was found poisoned. The young girl attending her foully murdered. Was this the doing of the Brethren? I do not know. Not only had the Queen been murdered, but His Majesty's favourite mistress, the Marquise de Pompadour, too. She was found dead in her chambers. No grand funeral for her. A hasty interment in the crypt of a nearby church sufficed. Broglie hushed the matter up the best he could but there'll always be whispers in the vaulted corridors of Versailles. He did require footmen to move the coffin and a hearse to move her away.
The king has been taken ill. The whispers speak of some disease or possible poison. The court physicians are at their wits' end with his condition. Louis XV might not live long. The motherless dauphin would be ushered towards the throne under Broglie's guidance.
If there is one thing about Broglie, he is the epitome of loyalty. He served Louis XIV as a young knight and served his successor since the day Louis XV first wore the crown of France. The Duke of Orleans' rebellion was squashed no doubt to Broglie's doing. But the Brethren had apparently struck at the very heart of the royal family, behind the walls of Versailles. Broglie would not forgive this easily and someone will pay. Suddenly my post at court seems precarious.
The Marquise was my patron and protector within Versailles. Now she is gone…
There will be a purge within the court. Broglie will prepare the way for young Auguste to take the throne by removing all perceived threats against him. Louis XV lingers on his sickbed and it will only be a matter of time before he is called home to the Lord. The Comte de Saint-Germaine has vanished, as have his lackeys. Perhaps they had long fled France.
Perhaps I will be stripped of my rank and titles and cast out penniless. Or I will be exiled from France… Or… I shudder as the dark image of the Bastille loomed up before my mind's eye.
I must flee Versailles, France… I have packed whatever valuables I can carry on my person and ordered a servant to ready a horse. I must leave for Calais before sun-up.
This is insane! I've not ridden a horse since I was a child. I always go by coach…
What's taking my man so long? I peer out of the window for the umpteenth time. The modest mansion I rent is sited within walking distance of the main town centre of the town of Versailles. At this late hour, most of the houses are in darkness. The moon has sailed behind a cloud. The garden and walk are in darkness. Surely…
The moon sails out from behind the clouds. My heart drops to my shoes when I see them. Several French soldiers. No doubt here on Broglie's orders.
Here comes the dreaded knock on the door.
"Open up, Monsieur Praslin! Open up in the name of His Majesty Louis XV…"
The shadow of the Bastille looms over me. Blind panic muddles my mind. I cannot move, I cannot speak or cry out.
Receiving no answer, the soldiers force the door with a resounding crash.
As I stand frozen with fear, the first of the soldiers reach me. With them is my worthless manservant, twisting and wringing his hands in a paroxysm of apologetic guilt. The leader of the soldiers asks him a question. The man replies in an affirmative. The soldiers seize me by the shoulders.
"Monsieur Praslin. We hereby arrest you on suspicions of abetting and aiding the Duke of Orleans in an act of high treason…"
The Bastille awaits.
That is the last of this series for me. Unlikely I will be revisiting this fic.
Pompadour: Praslin! Where are you? (looking around)
Praslin: Milady, I'm here at your service.
Pompadour: Oh, I'm not calling you… I'm looking for my lap-dog… (hears yapping) Ah, there you are! Come to mama, you naughty boy….
Pompadour picks up a yappy little lap-dog from under the table.