Life of Being a Crown Prince in France

Chapter 58: Chapter 58: Sarabande Dance

The eyes of the noble ladies immediately turned to Lady Sangbellon, and as soon as she proposed her idea for the ball, it sparked a wave of laughter and cheers.

“I think this idea is great,” Earl Debreninac was the first to affirm.

Queen Mary smiled and nodded, “It’s very interesting, let’s do it this way this year.”

The noble ladies all echoed one after another, “This year’s masquerade ball will definitely be spectacular!”

“Lady Sangbellon is truly full of wisdom.”

“I’m planning to dance all night.”

From that day on, a new face suddenly appeared in the Crown Prince’s chamber.

Charming and seductive, drawing every man’s sideways glance, was none other than Lady Sangbellon herself.

It was a tradition in the Palace of Versailles for grand nobles to serve Royal Family members, for instance, every morning when the Queen got up, it was common for the wife of a prince or duke to come help her dress.

Though Lady Sangbellon’s status was not extremely distinguished, she was still qualified to do some miscellaneous work in the Crown Prince’s chamber. Especially after she gave some small gifts to the Crown Prince’s maidservants, her presence could be seen everywhere except in duties assigned to specific hands.

Lady Sangbellon was very skillful, often appearing within the Crown Prince’s peripheral vision holding a vase or tablecloth, letting other maids shout her name, but never allowing the Crown Prince to notice her directly.

Joseph had no idea that such a maidservant had been added; there were simply too many birds and swallows in the Palace of Versailles. But after a few days, he had grown somewhat accustomed to her presence.

A week went by in the blink of an eye, and soon it was Saint Nicholas’ Day.

Joseph stepped out of his study, extremely unwillingly, under the repeated urging of the maidservants.

The Queen’s maidservant, Earl Debreninac, came over personally holding a black gown and called for all the maids to help.

Joseph’s face was even darker than the color of the gown, and if it had not been for Earl Debreninac, who was essentially the chief stewardess, watching over him, he might have already fled the Palace of Versailles.

The maidservants clumsily removed his coat and trousers, and Earl Debreninac immediately gently pulled the black gown over his head, then helped him stick his hands through the sleeves, and tightened the corset belt at the back of the dress with force.

Joseph was in pain from being squeezed and hurriedly shouted, “Gentle, gentle, I’m suffocating!”

“The ball is about to start, Your Highness, please cooperate a bit,” Earl Debreninac put a semi-transparent silk shawl over him, took out a towering wig with feathers, and carefully placed it on his head, looking him up and down and nodding, “Hmm, it fits very well.”

Joseph looked at the gown on his body and could only think about giving a good beating to whoever came up with this idea—he had been a perfectly straight man in his previous life, only to be forcibly turned into a cross-dressing aficionado in the 18th century.

Yes, the theme of this masquerade ball was “gender switch,” with men dressing as women and women dressing as men.

Joseph glanced at his reflection in the mirror and could hardly bear to look; he shook his head and thought to himself, The French people really do play flamboyantly.

In fact, in some of the private balls of nobles of this era, shameless antics were commonplace. Tonight’s masquerade ball, however, was considered very proper.

Luckily, Earl Debreninac did not force him to wear high heels, since those were not exclusive to ladies.

When Joseph put on a mask and walked into the Hall of Mirrors in the Palace of Versailles like a zombie, a rhythmically upbeat sound of music immediately began to play all around.

Twenty-four huge Bohemian crystal chandeliers on the ceiling shone dazzling light, illuminating the hundreds of noble “men and women” attending the ball who all turned their heads to look toward Joseph.

The King and Queen had already arrived. Dressed in a bright red swordsman outfit and with a fake short beard stuck to her lips, Queen Mary looked at Joseph and chided, “Miss, you are late.”

Louis XVI wore a deep blue gown, holding a matching silk fan to cover his face, and nodded with a smile toward his son.

Dressed as a shepherdess, the Chancellor stepped into the middle of the Hall of Mirrors, delivered a series of festive greetings, and then announced the start of the ball.

Masked men and women started dancing to the music. Within a moment, seven or eight noble young ladies dressed in various men’s attire rushed to Joseph’s side, and curtsied, offering a hand, “Esteemed miss, may I have the honor of a dance with you?”

“Would you care to dance with a police officer, madam?” The girl speaking was dressed in the latest Parisian police uniform.

“Miss, you know, I was the first to invite you.”

“Beautiful lady, please, dance with me…”

Though Joseph wore a mask, it was apparent that he was recognized immediately by these fluttering noblewomen.

According to court etiquette, only those of higher status may invite those of lower status to dance, never the reverse.

Moreover, it’s traditionally the gentlemen who invite the ladies to dance, but today’s theme was gender reversal. Seizing the opportunity, these young women hesitated not a whit before pouncing on the prince of their dreams, His Highness the Crown Prince.

In the end, a burly “coachman” pushed the other girls aside and grabbed the still-confused Joseph’s hand, dragging him to the center of the dance floor and cleared her throat forcefully, “Ahem!”

She must have given everyone the signal beforehand, as the surrounding nobles immediately stopped and circled around her and Joseph.

The “coachman” asked softly, “Might I inquire, miss, which dance would you like to perform?”

Feeling desperately awkward and following the expectant gazes around him, Joseph could only respond with resignation, “The Sarabande.”

“As you wish,” the “coachman” signaled the musicians, and immediately a Bach dance tune filled the air.

Joseph was led into the dance, his movements exceedingly clumsy from only a month of court dance lessons.

The musicians stared at the Crown Prince’s feet, desperately trying to match their accompaniment to his steps, but clearly, it was a challenging task.

If they knew the term “Brownian motion,” they would certainly use it to describe the Crown Prince’s dance.

Soon enough, Joseph stepped on the “coachman” three times and gave her an elbow…

The girl in the police uniform took advantage of the “coachman” rubbing her shoulder to step forward and steal Joseph away, “Beautiful lady, what dance would you care for?”

“The Sarabande.”

Joseph had no choice; it was the only dance he had learned.

On with the music, on with the dance, and before long, the “police officer” too had given up, replaced by a “cavalryman”: “What dance do you desire?”

Joseph sighed, “The Sarabande.”

And so, he danced the Sarabande for nearly an hour straight. Despite being harried by his poor dance skills, the noble maidens persisted valiantly, contending eagerly one after another.

In a corner, Lady Sangbellon, dressed as a scholar, watched with wide eyes as a throng of young girls surrounded the Crown Prince, irritatedly squeezing the “Cartesian Geometry” in her hand.

The idea for the masquerade ball was hers, meant to create a chance to flirt with the Crown Prince, but now she couldn’t get anywhere near him—the noble young ladies were just too strong!

Suddenly, she tossed aside the geometry book and sneered with disdain, “Hmph! To think they could compete with me with such meager skills.”

She requested pen and paper from a servant, pondered for a moment, quickly scribbled a note, handed it to Viscount Valais, and signaled to Joseph.

Finally, after Joseph had changed to his tenth dancing partner, Perna, who had been watching him silently in a cinched white coat, could no longer bear to see his distressed expression, stepped forward, and pushed away a “woodcutter” who was about to invite him for a dance.

“The Prince’s pneumonia has not yet fully healed; it is not advisable for him to engage in prolonged activity.”

“Ah, she’s right!” Joseph exclaimed as if he heard the music of heaven, perceiving Perna at that moment as if she were Queen Mary descended to earth, radiating a holy aura.

He nodded at her gratefully, and like a man escaping his fate, squeezed out of the crowd.

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