Revelation by Elohim. The Mystery of Diana de’Poitier
Claude Angie
Diane de Poitiers is marrying a man 40 years her senior. Soon her husband dies. «Rejoice!» – exclaimed the witch at the sight of the born girl. She will rule everyone! She rises to the top of the world! But a secret conspiracy threatens her life and the life of the king! In mortal combat, the enemy is defeated, but it costs her everything! Abandoned by everyone, on the brink of death, she reveals a secret. A terrible prediction is coming true! But is this the end?
Revelation byВ Elohim
The Mystery of Diana de’Poitier
Claude Angie
© Claude Angie, 2021
ISBNВ 978-5-0053-9881-9
Создано в интеллектуальной издательской системе Ridero
ChapterВ 1
В В В В Wedding
Wedding
The wind drove the leaves along the dusty road, it was aВ beautiful sunnyВ day.
The noise of the bells carried its ringing throughout the entire area with dozens of ringing bells, breaking the usual silence of this small village of Saint Vollier, so common in France these times. A multitude of barefoot boys ran in a small, noisy flock to the village church, kicking up the dust in a column. The people were going to a big event for this small village, the wedding of noble gentlemen. A beautiful spring day shone in these parts. The dauphine breathed the scent of wild forest grasses and flowers. Lush vegetation, blossoming and waking up in spring, mixing with the smell of clean transparent streams running down from the mountains, like the veins of this place and the breeze coming from transparent lakes. Yes, it was Dauphiné, Diana’s home. Today was her wedding day. Diana was barely 15 years old.
She stood in a wedding dress that sparkled with white. Her veil wrapped around her entire appearance, like a cloud. Her face seemed to glow with sparkling marble of incredibly white color. The stronger was the contrast of her black hair, like a raven’s wing. The very white skin of her face filled with even greater pallor that day.
The bride stood by the window, pale and pensive. There was everything: a wedding dress, a white cloud of a veil, a delicate bouquet of white flowers, only her face did not shine with a joyful smile. Diane de Poitiers was the only daughter of Jean de Saint Valier. It was an ancient, proud, but, alas, impoverished family. Diana’s mother was from a very noble family. Her family was much older than even the family of the Valois kings. In the veins of Diana flowed the blood of the once former kings of France, the Miroving dynasty. Diana always remembered this, despite the fact that everyone around had forgotten about it. Her father was a noblest soul man and nobleman Jean de Poitiers, Senor de Saint Valier. He was a thin gray-haired man with brooding eyes filled with depth. He looked at his daughter. She smiled back at him affectionately. He knew that Louis de Brese was a good match for his daughter. A very noble, great seneschal of Normandy and the chief jagermeister of France was one of the wealthy and dignitaries of the state, close to the king himself. He married his beautiful daughter, although he was 40 years older than Diana. He, her father will be calm about her future.
Are you ready my dear? He asked, kissing his daughter on the forehead and looking atВ her.
She silently nodded back, smiling at the corners ofВ her lips, and took hisВ arm.
He slowly led her toВ the exit. There was aВ noisy crowd inВ and around the church when their carriage pulled up and they got out. The father took her, his treasure, toВ the altar toВ give it toВ the groom, where he was already waiting for her. If such, that is, he could be called aВ groom. Far from being aВ young age ofВ men who was supposed toВ become her husband. Outwardly, nature has not endowed him with even aВ small bit ofВ beauty. He was simply ugly, thin and tall. He carried himself haughtily and arrogantly, erect toВ his full height and throwing his chin up, pursing his thin lips inВ arrogance. But, this position did not help inВ any way toВ hide his sparse hair on his head, carefully combed toВ one side.
They were some kind ofВ incomprehensible dirty shade mixed with gray hair. The thin, dry face was deeply wrinkled.
The lower thin lip is arrogantly compressed and from that it seemed to be not there at all, she disdainfully rose up. Colorless, like a fish’s eyes, they were cold. He looked at the bride and his lips barely moved, trying to portray a semblance of a smile. His whole appearance resembled a large swollen ball, full of his own significance and arrogance.
He, Louis de Brese de Molvrier, is one ofВ the most noble, wealthy and influential people inВ the state. Having spent his entire life as aВ bachelor inВ travel and entertainment, byВ the age ofВ 56В he decided that he needed an heir toВ his high rank, position and family. He had been choosing aВ wife for aВ year already. But, no one was worthy ofВ him. He was sure ofВ this and found flaws inВ all applicants. But, once he accidentally saw Diana at one ofВ the receptions, he was struck byВ her incredible beauty. Like aВ forest fairy, she did not leave his head. But, no, do not think, he did not fall inВ love. For such aВ person, love had rather aВ different meaning and form. Except for love for himself, he probably did not feel any other. And since Diana was just aВ beauty and sparkled like the moon inВ the night sky, blinding everyone around that evening. De Brese decided that, perhaps, he would descend toВ her from Olympus ofВ his greatness. And she will not find aВ better groom, just as for him she will be the best passion. Her poor, though noble family made him snort contemptuously. Diana was not interested inВ his greatness ofВ the past family at all. But, nevertheless, he decided that aВ lady like her noble, but not so rich, should be happy with his proposal and such aВ groom. And so, with these thoughts, he went toВ aВ meeting with her father, declaring his intention toВ marry Diana. And now everything is decided the wedding will take place inВ aВ small church, inВ an equally small village.
And he, as aВ tight-fisted or simply greedy person, will not have toВ endure too much costs and losses. Having done all the calculations, he was once again very pleased with himself and his choice.
Candles were burning inВ the church, flickering and jumping like fireflies, smelled ofВ incense. Diana stood straight, like aВ marble statue. She was calm. Her face reflected the flickering ofВ the candles, like glints ofВ light on white marble. She knew her father did it for her good. They were far from rich, and their estate had completely fallen into disrepair. Their house was often attended byВ the same as her father, noble nobles with empty pockets. Their honor and nobility were as great as their pockets were empty. They spoke noble speeches with gloomy faces, for which they, undoubtedly, could be put behind bars, or even completely deprived ofВ their heads. They talked about the situation ofВ nobles like them. About exorbitant taxes and fees and not justice ofВ the government and its imminent collapse. And then her father would go somewhere and return gloomy and silent.
She loved her father with the tender love ofВ her daughter and knew that their ancient family had won their title and name only byВ their courage, valor and honor. Many centuries ago, her distant ancestors fought alongside the kings. But, as often happens, they were forgotten. And, as you know, unfortunately, inВ this world for enrichment, nobility is not the most faithful ally. From them turned up their noses those who have got riches far from their nobility and honor. They also could not boast ofВ the antiquity ofВ their kind, but only the width ofВ their pockets. And now people like her father were out ofВ the court.
Winter, winter
She looked at the ugly old man, and revulsion pierced her heart. He looked at her with his fishy, cold eyes and she said yes. Now he is her husband. AВ thought flashed through my head, and like aВ wounded bird plunged into darkness.
They were sitting at aВ beautifully set silver table. The morning was lovely. The birds chirped happily and aВ fragrant breeze blew from the open window. She looked down at the omelet, trying toВ pretend she was eating. Thoughts swirled inВ aВ string ofВ tangled chains, wedding night memories, burning her brain. Cold, dry and rough hands on his skin, and such aВ disgusting smell ofВ his body. Somewhere there, inВ the depths ofВ her soul, something broke and fell into aВ bottomless abyss, black and cold, the same as this night. The memory stabbed with almost physical pain inВ her temple, as if aВ shot echoed somewhere inside her heart. She tightened her grip on the fork. And then, long-term use ofВ aВ sponge and water. She rubbed herself so hard, trying toВ wash off his touch that her skin turned red. Well, then. Oh, nightmare! His presence is near and his smell is so unpleasant. Her whole being was filled with disgust for him, for her father, for the whole world! So she lay on the edge ofВ the bed until day touched the window. His voice brought her out ofВ the cold memory like aВ slap inВ the face. She shuddered involuntarily.
My dear. He said.
Do you like breakfast?
IВ see you are not eating anything.
So what good are you weakening. But, an exhausted woman, he continued, cannot bear healthy children.
Children? Horror gripped her inВ aВ cold grip, and it became difficult for her toВ breathe.
Children! His children! The very thought that inside her womb there would be aВ particle ofВ him, this person, led her toВ indescribable horror. Her stomach ached and she thought she was going toВ vomit.
But keeping her composure, she looked at him coldly and answered.
That she doesn’t have such a hearty breakfast in her habits and promised that at lunchtime she would definitely be hungry and eat everything.
IВ hope, IВ hope. He answered.
Breakfast was finally finished.
She never ate aВ bite.
He got up and said that he was going on aВ horse ride toВ go around the estate. She replied that she was tired and would stay at home. He went toВ the exit and already at the door suddenly turned and said.
My dear.
How lucky you are! You are now Madame de Brese!
Even yesterday, you could not imagine and hope for such aВ great success inВ your life! He said toВ her, curling his thin lips into aВ semblance ofВ aВ smile, and left.
And she remained standing humiliated and insulted toВ the depths ofВ her soul byВ his words. Only her eyes for aВ moment flashed with aВ yellow fire and somewhere far away, inВ the very depths, lit up with burning hatred for the retreating figure ofВ the Comte de Molvrier.
She clenched her little fists so tightly that her nails dug into her skin and drops ofВ blood oozed from the wounds. And the heart seemed toВ sink into emptiness and stopped beating forever.
Winter, winter!
Everything outside the window dressed inВ white clothes and ruined the already not very good roads. AВ year has passed since her marriage. The count had been absent for over aВ month. Going toВ Paris on business. But what the count was doing, everyone knew, perhaps. Despite his almost incredible parsimony, the count was an avid gambler. It is not known how such incompatible qualities as incredible stinginess and aВ gambler were intertwined inВ him.
He forced his young wife, who was already pregnant, toВ walk inВ indecently patched petticoats for his meager outfits. Diana only had aВ few decent dresses. Fortunately or unfortunately for her, Diana almost never appeared. Upon learning ofВ her pregnancy, she fell into deep melancholy, secretly hoping for aВ miscarriage. The pregnancy was difficult. She was even paler than usual and had dark circles under her eyes. The contractions began unexpectedly. She felt pain, bending over, groaned. She understood what had begun. The servant who was with her came running toВ her call. The maid screamed, waving her arms.
Oh, you’re giving birth, madam! Oh oh! She repeated.
The maid helped her toВ theВ bed.
They sent for an experienced midwife who took on more than one birth. Enough time passed, and the Countess gave birth.
Everything turned out well, she gave birth toВ aВ girl.
Madam, it’s a girl. The midwife said. She wanted to bring the baby to her mother.
Take it away, came the dull voice ofВ the Countess. Take it away, Diana repeated, hoarsely.
Get her away from me, she repeated. Not wanting toВ look at the child. The old woman was taken aback. Diana, white as death itself, with blue lips, repeated breathlessly.
Take it away! IВ toldВ you!
But what about, madam? The beginning was an old woman. The Countess sat up inВ bed, pale with tangled hair, her eyes widening. She looked at the child with full eyes, it seemed ofВ some kind ofВ horror.
Take her away! She repeated it firmly, turning away from her daughter.
Find aВ wet nurse, let them bring aВ woman here. Do you understand me?! She gave the order toВ the maid holding the crying child. His scream cut her toВ pieces like aВ knife, but she did not look inВ his direction.
Come on already! She cried out, unable toВ bear this agony any longer.
Leave me alone. Finally, she said softly, as if her last strength had left her. The old woman and the maid did not move, not yet recovering from her words.
Go ahead! She screamed at them, pulling them out ofВ their stupor. Finally, they left, taking the child with them.
AВ week passed, she was sitting byВ the large fireplace, wrapped inВ aВ large woolen blanket, and her eyes fixed on the window. She looked at the coldness ofВ nature, the frosty patterns ofВ the world. She has not seen her daughter since her birth. IВ only asked the servant how aВ child was and whether she was healthy. The nurse was quickly found, it was aВ pink-cheeked, healthy woman. The Countess ordered the servant who entered the room toВ be called.
After aВ while aВ woman waddled into the room with aВ brisk gait. She stopped next toВ the Countess. Diana looked from the window toВ the woman and asked her inВ aВ quiet, calm voice.
How is my daughter?
Madam, very good. The woman answered.
Eats forВ two.
Smiling innocently, she said.
My tomboy is barely enough.
But, IВ have more than enough milk. She hastened toВ assure the Countess. Afraid that she might think that she has little milk and will look for aВ replacement forВ her.
Would you like toВ take aВ look at her? Timidly, she added, looking down.
The Countess sighed wearily.
No, not now, later. She added, thoughtfully.
You can go now. She finished the conversation. Moving again my gaze to the cold landscapes outside the window. The woman waddled to the exit. Suddenly, as if remembering something, Diana called the woman’s name.
Margarita.
The woman turned around.
Thanks, Diana added quietly, and smiled wearily at the nurse. And she answered her with aВ bright, open, sincere and happy smile. Which only aВ loving mother who remembered her childВ has.
