Chapter 10: The Turning Point

The aftermath of the Valette masquerade brought with it a temptation I had not anticipated. Only two days after that decadent night, a sealed letter arrived at my townhouse, delivered by a liveried royal courier. Claudine brought it to me on a silver tray, her eyes wide with speculation. Dismissing her gently, I broke the wax seal bearing the royal crest and unfolded the heavy parchment within.

"Madame,Your charm and wit have made a lasting impression. I desire to speak with you further on matters of mutual interest.Tonight at midnight, the Orangerie in Valence Gardens. Come alone.— A"

My heart pounded. "A" could only be Prince Adrien. Mutual interest. It could be personal, or something more. Either way, the royal summons crackled in my hand like a live ember of opportunity.

I paced my parlor, the letter clenched between my fingers. To meet the Prince alone at midnight was to cross a threshold from which there was no return. It would mean stepping into the most perilous arena of all: the royal court, with its vicious politicking and constant scrutiny. The stakes of my game would skyrocket. If I captured the Prince's favor, I could wield influence beyond any I'd ever imagined—perhaps even secure a title or land. But a misstep could just as swiftly lead to ruin or worse; I had heard of royal mistresses cast aside in disgrace, or used as pawns and discarded.

And what of Nicolas and Etienne? I felt a pang thinking of my Baron's gentle smile, the Marquis's youthful devotion. I had genuine affection for them, but neither could offer what Adrien dangled before me: a chance to truly eclipse my past and stand at the pinnacle of power and privilege.

In that moment, I knew the truth I'd perhaps known since the night of the ball: I would go to the Prince. I would risk everything, because the woman I had become did not shy from ambition, nor quail at the thought of higher-stakes games. I had not clawed my way from destitution only to stop at being a wealthy man's paramour. No—Vivienne Renelle, now Madame V, wanted more. Deserved more.

As dusk fell, I prepared myself with meticulous care. I donned a midnight-blue gown that was elegant but understated enough to move quietly in. I left behind all identifying jewelry, wearing only a simple ribbon at my throat rather than the Baron's sapphire necklace. If I were recognized... well, I could not afford to be. I told Claudine nothing of the meeting—only that she should not wait up and that if the Baron called, I was feeling unwell and had retired early.

By the time I arrived at Valence Gardens, a crescent moon hung low, casting silvery light over the manicured hedges and gravel paths. The Orangerie—a glass-domed structure filled with exotic citrus trees—stood at the heart of the gardens. At this late hour it was closed to the public, but as I approached, the ornate iron gate was ajar.

My pulse quickened with each step into the dim interior. The scent of orange blossoms perfumed the warm air. Lanterns glowed at the far end near a stone bench, where a solitary figure stood amidst the lush foliage.

Prince Adrien removed his mask of polite neutrality the instant he saw me. In this secret rendezvous, he did not need to play the genial royal. He crossed the space between us swiftly and took my hand, bowing to kiss it.

"You came," he said, relief and triumph mingling in his voice.

"I confess, I was most curious what His Highness could want at such an hour," I replied lightly, attempting to hide my nerves. Still, I did not withdraw my hand from his. His thumb stroked over my knuckles in a familiar way.

Adrien got straight to the point. "Madame V—Vivienne, is it not? Yes, I know your given name," he added as I tensed. "I made some discreet inquiries after the ball. Rest assured, your secrets are safe with me." His gray eyes bore into mine. "I have a proposition for you."

My breath hitched. He had done his research; that could be dangerous, or it could mean he was truly serious. "I am listening, Your Highness."

He guided me to the stone bench and we sat, side by side, partially hidden by a fragrant lemon tree. "I find myself in need of an exceptionally clever and beautiful confidante at court," he began. "Someone who can provide... companionship, yes, but also keen insight. My brother the King surrounds himself with flatterers and fools. I intend to be better advised."

It dawned on me that he wasn't simply seeking a dalliance—he was recruiting me. "You flatter me, sir, but I am no courtier," I demurred carefully.

He tilted my chin gently with gloved fingers, forcing me to meet his earnest gaze. "You are far more astute than most courtiers I know. At the masquerade, you conversed with ministers and artists alike with equal aplomb. D'Arcy's reports of your salons have reached even my ears. You've made something of a name for yourself, Madame V—one that intrigues me greatly."

So, the Prince had been watching longer than I realized. A mix of pride and wariness warred within me. "What exactly do you ask of me, Your Highness?"

His hand moved to caress my cheek. "Become mine," he said softly. "My confidante. My mistress, if you will. It will mean leaving behind any other entanglements—you must know I won't share. But in exchange, I shall make sure you never find yourself at anyone's mercy again. You would want for nothing. And you would have my ear... perhaps even influence on matters of state, should you prove as wise as I suspect."

The weight of his offer settled on me. This was indeed the gateway to an even higher-stakes game. If I accepted, I would likely have to sever ties with Baron d'Arcy and Marquis de Beaumont—maybe not overnight, but soon. And I would step into the snake-pit of court intrigue, where every eye would be on the upstart commoner captivating the King's brother. It was perilous. It was intoxicating.

I thought of Marielle's attempted blackmail, of creeping around to hide my double life. How much simpler, in a way, to have one powerful patron who could shield me with his status. Of course, that patron was also a prince who could toss me aside on a whim, but I sensed Adrien was too shrewd to invest in me lightly.

He was watching me intently as I turned things over in my mind. I realized he wanted this badly—perhaps he felt isolated at court, or perhaps he simply desired me fiercely after seeing me with others. Likely both.

"Your Highness," I murmured, leaning closer. My decision was all but made, yet I had to maintain some leverage. "Before I answer, I must know... why me? You could have any lady in court."

His eyes flashed with something between admiration and hunger. "None of them are you. They simper and play at wit, but you... you handled a jealous Baron and a besotted Marquis as easily as breathing. Yes, I know about them," he added as I startled. "It impressed me, frankly. You're a woman who understands men—and how to use that understanding. I need someone like that by my side." He paused, then added more softly, "And, if I'm honest, since the other night I have not been able to banish thoughts of you from my mind."

A thrill ran through me. He had me thoroughly scouted—dangerous, but it meant he valued my particular skills rather than an illusion of purity or maidenly virtue. That was to my advantage; I could be myself with him, as far as it went.

I found myself smiling slowly. "It seems, Your Highness, that our desires align. I accept your proposition—on my terms."

His brows rose, not offended but intrigued. "And what would those be?"

"I will be discreet above all. No formal acknowledgement unless you choose; I know how to be a shadow when needed. But I want assurance that I will have your protection. I have made some enemies in my rise..." I thought of Marielle, of any others lurking. "I need to know that if daggers point my way, you will help me blunt them."

Adrien nodded. "Agreed. Anyone daring to trouble you will answer to me."

I took a breath. "Additionally, I ask for financial independence. Not just gifts—I wish to own property of my own, in my name. Think of it as establishing me comfortably." This was bold, but crucial. If I had land or investments secured by the Prince, even losing his favor later might not leave me destitute.

He regarded me with open appreciation. "You truly do plan ahead. Very well. I shall see that you are granted a small estate outside the city. It can be under an alias if you prefer, for privacy."

I exhaled, unaware until then that I'd been holding my breath. He had conceded with surprising ease. Perhaps he expected to buy my loyalty thus, and he was right.

"In return," he said, a slight edge entering his tone as he claimed my hand again, "I expect your complete devotion, Vivienne. No other men. Full confidence between us—you will inform me of any interesting tidbits you hear in society, advise me frankly, and warm my bed when I desire it." His thumb stroked over my palm, igniting a spark. "Do we have an accord?"

We had negotiated like diplomats; now his demands turned intimate, reminding me that ultimately I was being recruited as a mistress, however unusually. I answered by sliding closer, daringly lifting my lips to his in a soft, lingering kiss.

He responded immediately, one arm snaking around my waist to pull me flush against him. Our kiss deepened, filled with the pent-up attraction that had simmered since the ball. His power and intensity were palpable, but I met him with equal fervor, showing him I would not be a passive ornament.

When we finally parted, both breathing a touch faster, I rested my forehead against his and whispered, "Accord, Your Highness."

His face broke into a genuine smile—one of victory and delight. "Adrien," he corrected gently. "When we are alone, call me Adrien."

I smiled in return. "Adrien," I repeated softly, tasting the familiarity of his name.

He held me for a few quiet moments in the orange-scented air. I understood that our pact was sealed as firmly as any treaty. My life was about to change irrevocably. There would be logistics to manage: how to disentangle from Nicolas and Etienne without igniting their wrath or suspicion, how to position myself at court without drawing the Queen's envy or the King's scorn. But that was to be navigated soon. For now, under the stars and glass of the Orangerie, I allowed myself to revel in the turning point I had reached.

Not long ago, I had been a ruined girl, desperate and friendless on the streets. Now, I was lover and counsel to a prince of the realm. There would be new perils—oh yes, court would likely prove more treacherous than anything yet. But I felt ready.

Adrien pressed another kiss to my lips, this one gentler, almost possessive. "I will send a carriage for you in two days' time," he murmured, "to bring you to a safe apartment I keep in the city. From there, we will arrange everything."

"I shall be ready," I replied, eyes shining.

As I left the Orangerie that night, a cloak around my shoulders and my heart alight with equal parts excitement and nerves, I knew I had set foot on a path from which there was no turning back. It was the boldest gamble of my life—trading the relative security of my double life for a single high-stakes alliance.

I glanced back and saw Adrien watching from the shadows, a sentinel of my future. I offered a final graceful curtsy in the moonlight, which he answered with a nod. Then I slipped out into the night, a silent laugh of exhilaration bubbling in my chest.

Whatever lay ahead—danger, glory, or both—I would face it as I had everything else: with beauty, wit, and cunning as my weapons. The hidden courtesan named Vivienne was stepping onto the grandest stage of all, and I intended to conquer it.