[August 11, 1788 – 1:04am]
"You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams." - Dr. Seuss

"I must take leave of you now, ma Chérie." Louis said, kissing Svea's hand, but the young woman pouted, intertwining her fingers again between the white gloves.

"Why don't you stay a little longer, dear?" She muttered as she cracked a crooked smile, refusing to let go of the boy's hand.

"You know I can't stay, I have to return to-"

He was abruptly interrupted as the lady stepped forward, immediatly stumbling over and being held by his arms. She let out a laugh, causing the gentleman to sigh.

"I warned you not to drink so much, Svea dear..." He said in a low voice, opening the bedroom door. He gently lifted the girl up, closing the door behind him as he carried her. Placing her carefully on the bed, as soon he began to pull away, she sat up completely sober and winked an eye, laughing. She untied the laces of her heels, leaving her feet free from the decked cages.

"Well, you're here, aren't you?" She smiled, getting up and heading towards the dressing table, removing the fancy mask from her face and carelessly throwing it to the floor. "Help me get ready, dear."

Louis opened his mouth in surprise before laughing and going to the young woman, who was standing in front of the dressing table, staring into the mirror with a smile. "You're a dangerous person, honey." He whispered in her ear, resting his hands on her shoulders. He felt her skin crawl as his lips brushed against her neck, giving her a passionate kiss.

His hands went up to the lady's head, beginning to gently remove the pins that held the wig to the back of the lady's hair. She opened a smile, looking at herself in the mirror before stopping it for a second and removing the mask that covered his face, throwing it on the ground along with hers, her blue eyes shining in contentment.

"Can't judge me for wanting to spend more time with you, can you?" Svea said happily, opening one of the drawers and grabbing a white handkerchief, running it over her face to remove the heavy  makeup. Two white candles rose in front of her, allowing her to watch her features in the light.

The boy placed the pins in a small porcelain pot over the dressing table, along with the pins of his own hair, before finally holding the wig, removing it from the girl's head. "Where can I put this, honey?"

"There is a metal bracket inside my cupboard, you can put it there, but please cover it so my lady-in-waiting doesn't discover it in the morning. It would be a shame if we were found out after so much work to disguise ourselves." The young woman smiled gently, folding her handkerchief and putting it away in the back of the drawer. She stared at her reflection absently, fluffing the curls with her hands, which fell scruffily around her face.

"Do you want me to comb it for you?" Louis asked, delicately holding the lady's voluminous hair, kissing the top of her head, after having returned and hided both wigs under a pile of dresses. 

"I'd love to, it's so tricky to keep the curls tidy." Svea sighed, grabbing her comb from the vanity and handing it to the boy. "I wish there was some way that they were always set, Leonard spends a lot of time arranging them in a decent hairstyle."

"To me your hair is beautiful, even messy." The boy smiled, gently running  the jewel-studded object between the curled ends of her voluminous blond hair. "I bet the other madams are jealous that you have your hair curled naturally while they spend hours curling their ends."

"You really know how to charm a lady, dear." Svea said, closing her eyes tightly and grimacing as the comb grabbed her hair. The gentleman apologized, but she smiled at him. "It's okay, don't worry. But that's why I don't appreciate the hours of tidying it up."

Louis nodded, combing the girl's hair more carefully. Silence settled between them, a veil that shrouded their secrets without asking for anything in return. She picked up a small figurine that normally stood in front of the mirror, twirling it absentmindedly on her fingers. It was the figure of a small porcelain arlequim, painted in shades of different colors. Svea had an appreciation for that little porcelain figure, which she had always included in her games as a child, under the protests of her maid who said that she would end up breaking her. There was only one crack in one corner of his face, dripping like a tear, which gave him a sad countenance, as he held a deck of cards, his hair under a jester's hat with two golden bells. Perhaps it was because of the delicacy of such an object, but she had never been able to get rid of the little figure.

Perhaps because it was the first gift her father gave to her.

She placed it back in front of the mirror, resting her face in her hands before looking up at her reflection. Her eyes were heavy, but she cracked a smile, remembering the conversation in the game room. She didn't know if the boy had heard what they had said about him, since herself couldn't hear what he said to the other men in the room. But the words she had spoken about him came back to his mind.

She hadn't lied, of course, Louis really did resemble perfection, with his manners and gallant appearance, but was he really madly in love or didn't he love her as much as she loved him? Raising her head back to look the gentleman in the eye, she interrupted him for a moment.

"Do you think I'm pretty, dear?"  The lady frowned, questioning him. The boy gave her a soft kiss on the forehead, lifting her face so she could see her own  reflection.

"Honey, right now you are the most beautiful woman in the world." He whispered, though the young woman wasn't satisfied with the answer yet. She lifted her head as she stared into the mirror, running her finger over her thin chin and pulling her hair in front of her shoulders, before arching her eyebrows and smiling broadly.

"You're right, I really am quite pretty." Svea answered, her smile fading as she spun around on the upholstered stool, innocently blinking her blue eyes as she watched the boy. "But do you love me? Tell the truth, do you truly love me?"

Louis didn't answer her right away, his eyes getting a little lost in the young woman's face before his face lit up an angelic laugh, approaching her and lifted her into his arms, spinning her around with him.

"Oh lord, I'd have to be crazy not to love you!" He exclaimed, holding her in his arms as he kissed her red cheek, laughing. "My lips yearn for your kisses, my skin begs for your touch, my pupils cry out to see you, to be able to look deeply into your eyes, your face that you are this painting on which Leonardo could not have painted a more beautiful smile! Blessed be the cherubim who shot that painful arrow of love with which I fell in love with all their looks, which I stole from them in secret, for every moment I could have her. I'd have to be a madman if I didn't fall in love with you, for I love you, I love you more than I love myself, Svea. If you ever accept my love, my deepest love for you, you will make me the happiest man in all France."

Svea stared at him in shock before her eyes started to tear up, her arms immediatly wrapping around his neck, her face buried in between his shoulder. "Do you really love me this much?"

"Why wouldn't I?" He caressed her hair, his arms holding her body closer, his lips tracing kisses over her red face, gently wiping her tears. The girl held tigher onto him, staring deeply into his eyes.

Almost as she was afraid of losing him, lose that moment. She didn't wanted to lose that, never.

"Do not let me go, Eze... Promise me."

"I won't. It's a promise"