The sun shone hot and strong on the huge French lands.
It illuminated the wide blue sky, completely free from any cloud.
Prince Henry, by order of the French sovereign and to his great satisfaction, had been fed, washed, and even the disheveled and arranged cut of his golden blond hair had been made more acceptable by the best barbers at the court.
He felt good there, he was accepted, treated in a manner worthy of a crown prince and by now in that time that he had been there, the prince had started to feel that place as a real home.
Henry had the best barbers, who every morning carefully shaved his beard and finally wore clean clothes, and it was possible to take advantage of a hot bath every evening.
By now the memory of the cold and smelly prison had become a distant nightmare.
On that day, in addition to the great lunch to celebrate the arrival of the English prince at court, all the sons of the sovereign were invited, his uncles with their respective families.
He had never fully met his uncles or their respective families so a feeling of inadequacy began to rise inside him.
The seventeen-year-old prince Ferdinand I, was expected as the main guest in the company of his young wife, the Spanish princess Maria Barbara, still without any children.
The rest of the princes still lived at the royal court, such as the fourteen-year-old Charles, the infant princess Marianne only twelve years old, the infant prince Philip of just ten years, the little Marie of only four years, still followed by a nurse and the youngest, the infant Prince Louis of just three years.
His uncles were thus six, four boys and two girls, but the thing that most intimidated the prince was that all the children of his grandfather were actually much younger than him.
On the other hand, the king of France had married in second marriage with the 39-year-old Italian queen consort, so except for Ferdinand everyone else was like saying only half uncles.
On the other hand, the meeting planned by the king included only a chat between the oldest male members over ten years old.
For this reason it would have been a chat only between Henry, Ferdinand, Charles and the younger Philip.
It wasn't going to be difficult to interact with them or at least he hoped even though he wasn't exactly good at having conversations between people he didn't already know.
On the other hand, the three princes were all brothers, except him.
He walked restlessly in the large gardens of the palace of Versailles, strolled and all around him breathed fresh air.
Versailles was large and since generations had belonged to the lineage of the noble French royal blood.
In fact, Henry could boast the primacy on the maternal side of descending from some of the greatest and most famous French sovereigns.
He could boast of possessing the purest and noblest blood of the whole France, the problem was that the crown set too many expectations.
For example, looking back at his ancestors, the prince only noticed greatness and power and the same thing happened when he was still a child, seeing the image of his father: a strong, authoritarian man.
The prince wondered if one day he would become like him, he was afraid of it as a child.
Henry heard all around him different voices, doctors, courtiers, all talking about his father.
They insinuated strange things, which in front of a king would never have been said: they insinuated he was crazy, aggressive, that his father did not think and act as everyone else did.
In fact, during the reign of the late king, public and blatant executions were not rare and in fact showing a child of just eight years old, his own son, the death of his mother was not at all normal.
Henry was afraid, he cried as a child, all that shouting, he had thoughts in his head, he didn't want to become like his father and he promised himself, when he started to change for the worse he would immediately end his life to become like him.
After years, Isabelle, his half-sister was born and even as a child the murmurs about her had begun.
His sister seemed to have inherited the conditions of their father since her birth, she was a child with an angelic appearance but very aggressive and internally repressed.
There was no explanation for all this, but no one dared to criticize any member of the royal house, they did it out of fear.
Isabelle was not an ordinary child, from an early age she forcefully smashed the heads of her dolls against the walls of the castle, tore the eyes off her poor puppets or sometimes used to mutilate them, she had an innate passion for sharp objects.
Nobody knew what to call that perennial condition of aggression interrupted at times by strokes of happiness and sadness.
But on the one hand his sister's madness, even though it seemed strange, made him feel safe, even when he was still a child, because on the one hand he was sure it was hereditary at birth and he was now too old to lose his mind.
The gardens of Versailles were so too large and opulent that it was almost easy for Henry to get lost in them.
They were majestic, full of fresh and green meadows which almost gave rise to the idea of having retraced the road hundreds of times.
The prince had passed the immense marble fountains, their playful water games, in the midst of the fresh and green trees, which were slightly sprouted every day by the castle's gardeners.
The delightful and colourful flowers which flooded the fresh air with their delicate smell.
It was right next to those fragrant flowers that the prince recognized the well-known figure of a dear friend.
He didn't remember she was just so beautiful: her skin, illuminated by the heat of the sun, smooth, shiny, her regular profile, the faint blush on her cheeks, her lips, soft and pink, the big sky-coloured eyes and the precious pearl earrings that she wore on her ears.
But in any case he did not remember her light brown and wavy hair now falling down to the middle of her back and no longer in a tight ponytail high on her head.
She was walking, and as she walked she hold under her arm, next to the pale purple dress that she wore some cardboard and faded folders with important documents inside.
The man almost ran into her, happy to be able to see her again after a few days.
In her absence, the prince realised he missed her incredibly.
-Kara!- came out like a whisper from his tight lips -Kara, is it really you? -
At that sweet whisper the ambassador's soft lips remained parted with surprise, she did not expect to meet Henry right there.
She smiled slightly embarrassed, as she quickly tried to close her hair in a tight tail behind the top of her head.
-Prince Henry, I did not expect to meet you here, especially in these circumstances...- she blushed.
Often in those days the two had talked and met, but never in such an informal way.
-Why do you tie your hair- the man gently grabbed the hand of the girl and brought it down, untying the tail.
-I find you are beautiful when your hair are so free...- at those words Kara suddenly blushed with so much force that the blush of her cheeks seemed to resemble that of the surrounding flowers.
Henry was a too good a man for her, she felt she didn't deserve all this attention.
Maybe she didn't have to rise to his level to be loved or be told how beautiful she was.
-Anyway...- she changed the subject promptly, trying to divert his attention from giving her other compliments -what brings you here?-.
The prince seemed quite surprised by the obvious question but he didn't want to seem rude so he just smiled weakly.
-I have been living here for about ten days now, I was just taking a walk in the royal gardens to breathe some fresh air...- but he did not have time to finish the sentence as the ambassador interrupted his words by a weak and embarrassed laugh.
-Right, you live here now...- admitted Kara blushing again and and patting her head with the palm of her hand -amazing how I forget things so easily-.
Henry knew it was not possible she had forgotten everything, as he often noticed her walking there in the vicinity of the royal gardens, she was simply embarrassed and with an obvious crush on him.
-You? - asked the prince at those words, arranging the white wig on his head in a composed manner, always keeping a smile -what brings you here?-.
At those words Kara prepared to hand with further blush, the block of faded folders to the man, leaving him completely surprised.
-I analyse folders, work...- she admitted quickly as she only later noticed Henry's impressed gaze, she thought she didn't make a good impression on him -as long as you want to take a look...-.
She was behaving in such an informal and exasperated way, in ways that were almost wild for a young woman of her age, as if she had grown up without anyone teaching her how a lady behaves in the aristocratic society.
-Why not?- the prince admitted embarrassed, grabbing the faded and full folders, swollen with documents, in his hands.
He opened them, the paper was hard, almost old and damp with something.
A white note fell to the ground, it was folded in four, the paper was white, new, and had been perfumed with lavender essence.
Inside, some words seemed to be written in black ink, which the man could not read as the small note fell on the white gravels of the royal garden.
He tried to pick it up, as it was a good way for him to be a gentleman but Kara was quicker than him, she literally pulled it away from the man's hands.
What he had seen seemed almost like a love letter.
Was the young woman waiting for someone? That she was so beautiful that day for that specific reason.
-Don't touch it!- Kara scolded him clutching the small and perfumed sheet to her chest and blushing with embarrassment again -these are not facts that concern you...-.
The young woman's face seemed annoyed and angry, so much so that she had forcefully started nibbling one of her lower lips, she looked away from him, a disapproving grimace had widened on her face.
-I understand...- the prince smiled lightly as if he wanted to show that he didn't care at all.
He handed the folders to his friend and as she took them again under her arm he turned, to go away.
-In this case, I still wish you a good day...- the prince admitted grabbing the short walking stick of precious cherry wood with one of his hands and slowly and moving away from the young woman.
As soon as it was out of hearing range all the redness disappeared from the normally pale cheeks of the ambassador, Kara breathed a sigh, almost of relief, she kept her eyes closed, breathing in the fresh scented air of the thousand flowers around her.
She looked down at the small piece of paper divided into four, stroked it with her thumbs, the paper was fresh, it smelled of lavender essence.
She looked at the young man in the distance, smiled faintly, letting one of her cheeks rise.
-Maybe one day...- she laughed of herself continuing to look at the fragrant love card.