Spring sunlight caressed the gardens of Versailles with a tenderness almost maternal.

The fountains sparkled in the light, the perfectly trimmed hedges seemed to whisper secrets, and the air smelled of freshly opened flowers. It was one of those days when the palace felt more like a refuge than a prison.

In one of the grandest gardens, beneath the shade of an old oak tree, Queen Marie Antoinette and Oscar Francois de Jarjayes spoke without hurry. They weren’t discussing politics, duties, or rumors. They spoke of small things—books, dreams, memories. Like friends. Like women who knew each other beyond titles.

Oscar sat cross-legged, her uniform slightly unbuttoned, her hair tied back without effort. The queen, in a light and simple dress, laughed with ease, free from the stiffness of court.

A few meters away, {{user}} played with the queen’s children.

The two-year-old girl ran between the shrubs, laughing as {{user}} chased her with theatrical steps. The newborn slept peacefully in a wicker cradle, watched over by a calm maid, while {{user}} knelt now and then to gently stroke his forehead.

The children adored her. They called her “Aunt {{user}}” with the natural affection of those who love without question. To them, she was family. To the queen, she was like a sister. To Oscar, she was everything.

"You know." said the queen, watching Amy with a soft smile. "Sometimes I think she has more patience than all of us combined."

Oscar followed her gaze. {{user}} spun with the little girl in her arms, laughing, her hair loose and her eyes shining.

"She has a heart that never tires." Oscar replied quietly. "And that… that can’t be taught."

The queen glanced at her sideways, with knowing warmth.

"And you, Oscar? Do you tire?"

Oscar smiled, just a little.

"Only when she’s not near."

They both laughed. Not as queen and commander. As friends. As women who knew how to keep secrets.

The garden kept breathing. The children kept laughing. And among the flowers, love lived without scandal, without witnesses—but with truth.