The Maiden of Monaco - Episode 8

Novella Thursdays

Chapter VI

WITH ONLY THREE DAYS LEFT in the maiden of Monaco festivities the city of Paris was buzzing with excitement, especially since one of their own had made it this far.

Christophe was now a household name, with all Parisians, rich and poor alike, speaking with such pride of the simple French boy who had thus far defeated seven godly royals with his pure heart and persevering spirit.

From how he had captured the maiden‟s heart with that amazing kiss so many had witnessed to the level of determination he had displayed in order to stay in the competition. The French had become more revitalized from the actions of this young lad than by the crowning of their new king. A fact that would not have set well with a less secure man of the throne. But King Philip saw it for what it was. After all, his inheritance of the crown had not come without controversy. This was an opportunity to help unite the country under his new leadership. So indeed, along with secretly sharing in the pride of having one of their own so close to victory, Philip the fortunate also welcomed this new national wave of enthusiasm that was currently under way.

How long could the boy keep it up? Having surprised everyone, including the king himself, he could only hope that his logical doubts would continue to be proven wrong.

---

The three lords stood before the maiden they so desired, each ready to present to her their creative side. One stood with a covered silver platter in hand, while another held what appeared to be a covered canvas. Then there was Germany, who had nothing but himself to offer as he stepped forward, cleared his throat, and began to sing.

As powerful as his appearance, his baritone voice filled the hall with words that could not be understood but a melody that was so beautiful translation was not needed.

By the time Germany finished serenading the princess she was visibly moved. A tough act to follow for Belgium, who explained how her beauty had inspired him to paint her portrait, with the background being the unification of their two countries.

Although the challenge was that of creativity, strategy was also involved in Christophe’s decision to unveil his greatest strength. For if there was any truth in his belief that he had not been the only one who had felt the magic of their kiss, the revelation that it was he who had been laced in the sweetness the princess had shown such fondness for could provide the edge he needed to get to the final test.

And so he lifted the platter, looked straight into his beloved’s eyes, and uncovered it to reveal a fresh bunch of his brilliant golden-colored Chardonnay grapes.

„Your Highness, I present to you my most cherished of creative works. For more than half my life my passion has been to grow grapes. Many see such cultivation as nothing more than farming, but I believe I have proven otherwise by the reputation I have earned as being the most sought after producer of the fruit in all of Paris.

“The detail that is put into enriching the soil from which the seed will flourish. The care given to each and every vigorous vine, in turn providing the ideal foundation needed for every single grape of every single bunch to grow into the most succulent, the most flavorful plumps of passion one could ever taste.

“Such a practice is indeed an art form, and if one is fortunate enough, what can stem from the practitioner is a creativity that can only be described as unique, original, one-of-a-kind. Hence I present to you a family of grapes the world has never known, for it is my own creation from combining Gouais Blanc and Pinot Noir that this grape I call Chardonnay has been born.”

Christophe closed the last bit of distance between he and the princess, offering her to pluck from the bunch as he softly spoke, “Milady, will you do me the honor of having a taste?”