# Chapter 22: Secrets, Confessions, and the King's Embrace
Hello everyone, it's me again! How are you all doing today? I'm so excited to continue our journey together through this captivating tale. Today, we're diving deep into Chapter 22 of "Mistress Of The Sun" — and let me tell you, this chapter is absolutely packed with emotional turmoil, shocking confessions, and the intoxicating thrill of forbidden love. So grab your favorite cup of tea, settle into your coziest chair, and let's walk through this extraordinary chapter together.
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The chapter opens with our dear Petite and her loyal maid Clorine navigating the chaotic streets of Paris, the deafening clatter of wooden cartwheels surrounding them as hawkers desperately peddle their wares — caps, songs, shawls, pies — while beggar children swarm about, their tiny hands reaching out for even a single coin. The atmosphere is overwhelming, almost suffocating, and Clorine, ever vigilant, quietly confides that she carries a knife hidden in her basket. The danger of the city is palpable, a stark reminder of the precarious world these women inhabit.
After what feels like an eternity, they finally reach the Palais d'Orléans, and Petite is struck by how much has changed in just seven months. She left for Court as an innocent girl, but now she returns carrying the weight of secrets — secrets that could destroy everything she holds dear. The driver halts the carriage, and as Clorine climbs down, Petite hesitates. She is suddenly gripped by apprehension at the thought of facing her mother, Françoise — a woman who raised her on a steady diet of chastity, humility, and piety. Those words had been drummed into her since childhood, and now Petite carries the burden of knowing she has violated every single one of them.
Before entering, Petite whispers a warning to Clorine: say nothing about Monsieur le Duc de Gautier. The secrecy is essential — for now, at least. But as Petite herself reflects, the web of falsehoods seems never-ending, one lie leading to another and another, until she can barely remember where the truth ends and the deception begins. It's a heavy burden for such a young woman to carry.
Françoise greets her daughter with a vigorous embrace, and Petite is struck by how her mother has aged — rounder now, her face etched with wrinkles, her body softened by time. The reunion is bittersweet. Petite inhales her mother's familiar vanilla scent and feels unexpectedly moved, a wave of nostalgia washing over her. Yet even in this tender moment, she cannot escape her secrets.
The conversation that follows is a delicate dance of half-truths and evasions. Françoise frets about the Marquis's absence and notes with interest the fashionable details of Petite's gown — the wide chemise sleeves, the long pointed stomacher — signs that her daughter has adapted to Court life. They exchange news about Petite's duties, the weather, the Marquis's dropsical health, and a letter from Jean, Petite's brother, who is bored in Amboise and short of money. Petite presents her mother with a shawl as a New Year's gift, but when Françoise asks how much she has saved toward her dowry, Petite lies, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks. Surely her mother must sense the monumental change that has taken place within her — that she is no longer a girl, but a woman. And not just any woman, but a fallen woman, one who knows what it means to swoon in her lover's arms.
The conversation takes a dangerous turn when Françoise mentions that Jean has been looking out for a husband for Petite. Worse still, Jean apparently guarded Monsieur Fouquet — the former minister of finance — on his way to Paris for trial. Petite is stunned. The idea that her brother might discover her secret, that her family might learn the truth of her entanglement with the King, fills her with dread. She abruptly announces that she must leave, using the driver's expectations and her duties as an excuse, desperate to escape before her mother can probe any further.
Back in the attic room at the Tuileries Palace, Petite tells Clorine she's going riding — the emotional turmoil of the visit has left her shaken and she needs to clear her head. But before she can leave, there's a knock at the door. It's Gautier, and Clorine, ever hopeful, assumes it must be Petite's suitor. Gautier arrives bearing New Year's tidings, dressed in a jaunty beaver top hat and short cape, looking every bit the fashionable gentleman. He presents a bowl of fruit — pears, oranges, figs, such luxury in winter — along with a smaller parcel for Clorine, a mechanical toy that he proudly wrapped himself.
But the real treasure is hidden beneath the fruit: a rolled paper tied with a white ribbon. Petite slips behind the cloth partition to read it, and her heart nearly stops. It's a note from Louis — the King himself — declaring his desperation to see her. He instructs her to feign illness tomorrow and promises to come to her room at three o'clock. He awaits her answer through Gautier, and he impatiently awaits the moment when he can hold her in his arms again.
Petite presses the note to her heart. Since their trip to Versailles, she's hardly had a chance to even speak with Louis — and now he wants to meet her here, in her own room? The audacity, the danger, the thrill of it all sends her pulse racing. She steps out from behind the screen, her demeanor solemn, and tells Gautier her answer is yes. He takes a moment to comprehend, then clearly remembers his purpose and takes his leave with a flourish.
Once Gautier is gone, Petite knows she must tell Clorine the truth. She steels herself and asks her maid to sit down, first extracting a solemn vow of secrecy. She explains that in the morning, she will send Clorine to inform Madame Henriette that she's ill — a cover story. The truth is far more complicated: Petite has agreed to receive someone, privately. Clorine squints, asking if this has to do with the Duke. Petite presses her fingers to her eyes and finally confesses: she is not betrothed to Monsieur le Duc de Gautier. She has a gallant — a lover — and it is not the Duke.
Petite takes a deep breath, prays for strength, and reveals the truth: it's the King.
Clorine sits still as a wax figure, her heavy eyes fixed, and then slumps to the floor in a dead faint. Petite expected that much. What she didn't anticipate is the torrent of tears that bursts from her maid once she revives. Clorine is inconsolable, wailing that Petite will spend eternity in Hell, that her poor old mother will die of shame, that she is ruined beyond redemption. Who would marry her now? Not even that old merchant who couldn't read would have her. Clorine sobs that all her life she wanted only one thing — to serve the wife of a highborn man — and now Petite can't even become a nun. The weight of Clorine's despair is crushing, and Petite feels tears streaming down her own face as she absorbs every word. She knows the shame of it. She knows she is ruined. But even so, her love for Louis burns brighter than any fear of damnation.
That evening, the courtiers gather in Madame Henriette's bedchamber to celebrate the New Year. Henriette's pregnancy has rendered her dangerously ill, and her doctor has confined her to bed, so the court has come to her in sympathy. The room buzzes with talk and laughter, the air warm from blazing Yule logs and sweetly scented with Hungary water sprinkled over the carpets. Nicole greets Petite with concern, noting that she looks like a death mask in a procession. Petite confides that she told her maid the truth — well, about Ludmilla, at least. Nicole isn't surprised; she says Clorine is always fainting and should be pleased.
Nicole has good news: she's been carrying notes between Athénaïs and Alexandre, the Marquis de Noirmoutiers, and tonight they are betrothed. Petite watches as Athénaïs enters the room, radiant in a russet gown of flowing silk, her neck cut daringly low, her long blonde curls touching her bare shoulders. She looks up into the young man's eyes with unmistakable love, her hand resting on his. Petite recognizes the signs — she knows that look well. But there's a hint of something else in Nicole's voice, a suggestion that Athénaïs's future might not be as simple as it appears.
The next morning, Clorine lectures Petite extensively about preventing "swelling of the stomach" — the various methods women use to avoid pregnancy. Petite listens patiently, not letting on that she already knows all of this. From the beginning, she and Louis have been careful, using sponges soaked in vinegar or brandy, and Louis's doctor had advised him that conception could only happen if they spent at the same time. Petite has learned to manage her body's responses, to avoid clenching her buttocks, to use lascivious movements to scatter the man's pleasure-fluid. These are the practical realities of being a king's mistress, and Petite has mastered them all.
Clorine announces she's going to church to pray for Petite and will be back at five — pointedly noting that should give her "enough time." Petite thanks her but internally screams for her to leave. She opens a book of bucolic poetry and feigns to read, not wanting to appear the harlot even as her thoughts are thoroughly inflamed. But before Clorine can depart, there's a knock at the door. It's a chandler with his wares. Clorine curtly informs him they have no need of candles, but he asks to speak to the mistress. Petite puts her book down and stands — mercy, Louis is early.
Louis falls against the closed door, laughing at the absurdity of his disguise. Petite warns him to catch Clorine, who is about to faint. But Clorine, clasping the back of a wooden chair, manages to hold herself upright, even managing a smile when Louis kindly addresses her. He opens the door and bows her out as if he were a footman, and Clorine pauses to scold him: "You look after my lady." Louis places his hand to his heart as if making a vow, assuring her in all seriousness that he will. And then Clorine is gone, and Petite and Louis are finally alone.
The scene shifts to Henriette, who is losing her sparkle. She detests having a big belly, hates being confined to bed, and is weary of her cramped quarters in the Tuileries and the critical eyes of the two queens. She and Philippe were supposed to have moved into the Palais Royale months earlier, but the work has moved slowly — until now. After considerable yelling and a few fits, Henriette has finally accomplished her mission: her palace is ready.
The move is accomplished more easily than expected. Hundreds of workers load hampers, furnishings, and trunks onto wagons for the short journey from the Tuileries to the Palais Royale, where hundreds more direct the seven hundred staff to their various chambers. Petite carries her treasures herself: her father's rosary wrapped around the statue of the Virgin and the wooden keepsake box. Her books she entrusts to Clorine.
Nicole meets her at the top of the stairs with news: they're sharing a room. The stairwell is musty, with a hint of the sickening scent of a dead mouse. Petite follows Nicole down the narrow hall to a chamber under the eaves, uncertain how she'll manage to meet with Louis now. Since Clorine was let in on the secret, they've been meeting almost every afternoon — but with Nicole sharing her room, how will they continue? Petite chooses the bed next to the window, overlooking the stables, and positions the figure of the Virgin on a side table, arranging the rosary around it. It's a small gesture of faith in a world that seems determined to test her at every turn.
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## Reader's Impressions & Star Rating
Wow. Just... wow. This chapter is an emotional rollercoaster from start to finish, and I found myself holding my breath through so many moments. The tension between Petite's love for Louis and the crushing weight of societal expectations is portrayed so vividly that I could feel her anxiety, her shame, and her defiance all at once. The scene with Clorine's confession and subsequent fainting spell was both heartbreaking and darkly comedic — Petite's "Catch her: she's going to faint" had me laughing even as my heart ached for both women.
What struck me most was the complexity of Petite's situation. She's not just a king's mistress; she's a daughter, a sister, a woman caught between who she was raised to be and who she has become. The visit with her mother was particularly poignant — the shawl gift, the questions about her dowry, the lies that slip so easily from her lips. And that moment when Françoise asks how much she's saved, and Petite feels the blood rush to her cheeks, knowing her mother must sense something... it's devastating.
The introduction of Athénaïs and her betrothal to the Marquis de Noirmoutiers is intriguing, and I suspect this will become important later. The contrast between Athénaïs's seemingly perfect love match and Petite's forbidden affair is striking. And the practical details about contraception — the sponges, the timing, the movements — add a raw, unflinching realism to the story that I deeply appreciate.
The chapter ends on a note of uncertainty: with Nicole sharing her room, how will Petite continue her clandestine meetings with Louis? The danger is escalating, the secrets multiplying, and I can feel the tension building toward something explosive.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Rating: 4.9 / 5 Stars
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## Next Chapter Prediction
The stage is set for a confrontation or a complication. With Nicole now sharing Petite's room, our heroine will need to find creative and risky ways to continue her affair with Louis. I predict that the next chapter will see Petite attempting to navigate this new obstacle, perhaps sneaking away to meet the King in secret locations around the Palais Royale — maybe even the stables she can see from her window.
However, I also sense that danger is approaching from another direction. Henriette's pregnancy and her declining health are troubling, and Athénaïs's betrothal to Noirmoutiers may not be as straightforward as it seems. Could Athénaïs be destined for greater things? And what of Françoise's concerns about Jean and the search for a husband? The family pressure is mounting, and Petite cannot hide the truth forever.
I predict that in the next chapter, Petite will face a near-discovery — perhaps Nicole will notice something suspicious, or a letter from Louis will fall into the wrong hands. The stakes are rising, and the web of secrets is growing too large to contain. Something has to give, and when it does, the consequences will be devastating.
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