Read Online The Moon and the Sun by Vonda N. McIntyre - Free Book Online

of
    it. I no
    longer
    know
    my
    brother,
    she
    thought,
    distress
    ed. I no
    longer
    know
    what
    he’ll
    say,
    what
    he’ll do,
    before
    he
    knows it
    himself.
    He
    raised
    his
    head,
    frowned
    ,
    hesitate
    d.
    “What
    about
    your
    duties
    to
    Madem
    oiselle?”

    Mar
    ie-Josèp
    he
    giggled.
    “Someti
    mes I
    hold her
    handker
    chief, if
    Mlle
    d’Arma
    gnac
    doesn’t
    snatch it
    first.
    She’d
    hardly
    notice I
    was
    gone. I
    need
    only tell
    her you
    need me
    — so
    your
    work
    might
    please
    the
    King...”
    His
    brow
    cleared.
    “I’d be
    grateful
    for your
    help.
    You
    haven’t
    become
    squeami
    sh, have
    you?”
    “Sq
    ueamish
    !” She
    laughed
    .
    “Wi
    ll you
    docume
    nt the
    dissecti
    on?”
    “I’d
    like
    nothing
    better.”
    “Th
    e
    dissecti
    on will
    occupy
    my
    time.
    Will
    you take
    the
    charge
    of the
    live sea
    monster
    ? Feed it
    —”
    “Ye
    s. And
    I’ll tame
    it, too.”
    “Yo
    u’ll
    need all
    your
    ingenuit
    y to
    persuad
    e it to
    eat.” His
    beautifu
    l smile
    erased
    the
    exhausti
    on from
    his face.
    “I’m
    certain
    you’ll
    succeed.
    You
    were
    better
    with the
    live
    things
    than I
    ever
    was.”
    Deli
    ghted to
    be part
    of his
    life, part
    of his
    work,
    once
    again,
    Marie-Jo
    sèphe
    kissed
    his
    cheek.
    Ya
    wning,
    he
    pushed
    himself
    to his
    feet.
    “There’s
    time
    still for
    a bit of
    sleep.”
    His
    smile
    turned
    wry.
    “Not
    even the
    Jesuits
    reconcil
    ed me to
    waking
    early.”
    “I’ll
    take that
    duty,
    too,”
    Marie-Jo
    sèphe
    said.
    “I’ll
    wake
    you in
    time to
    attend
    the
    King.”
    “Th
    at
    would
    be a
    consider
    able
    kindnes
    s,” Yves
    said.
    He
    ushered
    Marie-Jo
    sèphe
    out of
    the cage,
    closed
    the gate,
    and
    latched
    it and
    rattled it
    just as
    he had
    done
    earlier
    in the
    evening.
    The sea
    monster’
    s lament
    followe
    d them.
    “Oh
    !”
    Marie-Jo
    sèphe
    jumped
    back
    from
    somethi
    ng cold
    and
    slimy
    beneath
    her
    foot.
    “W
    hat is it
    — did
    you step
    on
    glass?”
    She
    picked
    up a
    dead
    fish.
    “Yo
    ur sea
    monster
    doesn’t
    like its
    fish.”

    4

    Marie-Josèphe walked through the silent dawn gardens of Versailles. At first light, the gardeners had vanished but the courtiers still slept and the visitors had not yet arrived.
    She was alone in the beauty, surrounded by flowers, perfumed by a cloud of orange perfume.
    She strode down the Green Carpet toward Apollo, planning her day. She would feed the sea monster, then return to the chateau in plenty of time to wake Yves and break their fast with bread and chocolate. He would attend His Majesty’s awakening.
    She could not accompany him, because women did not participate in the grand lever.
    Instead, she would wait for him in the guard room with the other ladies and the less-favored men, and join the procession to Mass.
    The morning delighted her. The world delighted her. When she kicked a small stone down the path, she thought, with a few strokes of my pen, with a calculation, I can describe the motion of its rise and fall. I can predict its effect on the next stone, and the next. M. Newton’s discoveries allow me to describe anything I wish, even the future paths of the stars and the planets. And now that I am free of the convent, no one will forbid me to do so.
    A breeze rustled the leaves of the potted orange trees. Marie-Josèphe considered how to predict the fluttering motion, and though the solution eluded her for the moment, she felt certain she could discover it with some time and consideration.
    M. Newton must have solved such a simple problem, she thought. Dare I write to him again? Would he bother to reply at all, when he condescended to communicate with me once, and I failed to answer? I wish I had seen the contents of his letter.
    The chateau of Versailles stood on a low hill; the Green Carpet led downward to the sea monster’s tent.
    A much easier walk than last night! she thought. She wore her riding habit, more practical and easier