i was summoned to the royal apartments. arrange a carriage, they told me, and wait by the door of the stables.
they brought a baby from the back of the palace, into the black carriage i had waiting. they had given the driver instructions about where it was, and i was ordered to make the whole journey with the blinds of the carriage drawn.
i carried that baby into the countryside, to a chateau, like this one. and there i left him.
the old king ordered you be educated and well treated, but your identity kept from you and all those around you.
on his death bed, he revealed your existence to louis and your mother. your mother had been told by her own priest that you had died at birth. somehow she blamed herself for ever believing it, and she wished to restore your birthright. but now louis was king.
a priest, even a pope, he could kill without hesitation, but he was afraid to kill you, for his whole claim to power rests on the sanctity of royal blood. so he had you hidden in a way that only a monster could devise. i know, for it was i who took you to prison, and the iron mask. someday i will ask your forgiveness. but not until we have restored to you what is yours.