1670.

Louis XIV was around 32. He was writing in his room, some letters about political matters. 'les stupides anglais..' he kept grumbling, angry about the English people for some reason. probably another war coming their way. it's been too long since other war, right? for him, it was.

he heard a soft knock at his door, turning around slightly, his brown eyes met with one of his guards. his face softened, not showing his anger to his poor innocent guard. "Mon roi. une.. personne étrange est apparue et souhaite de parlez avec vous. voulez-vous que je l'ai éloignes?" the guard asked.

Louis sighed, getting up and fixing himself. "Je vais y aller.. merci, mon cher." he said softly, walking out of his room and into the main room of Versailles, observing the person who wished to summon him. "Oui? que ce passe t'il? il est tard pour pouvoir me parler.." he asked with a soft smile.