color. And since the king was expecting her visit and knew she was a Sioux, he might be disappointed if, like everyone else at court, she had white hair. It was a style that had been set by the young queen, who had a passion for all things white.
She went for a walk that afternoon and took one of the grooms to escort her, as was the custom. She walked for a long time, and found her way to the Seine, where she looked at the water, the bridges, the boats drifting by, and the buildings on the opposite bank. She had never seen anything so lovely as Paris, and it didn’t frighten her at all.
She looked invigorated when she got back to the house, and the hairdresser was waiting for her by then. By the time Tristan got home, she was almost ready, and two of the maids and the housekeeper helped to dress her. Her undergarments and corseting were far more complicated now than when Jean had dressed her in St. Louis and New Orleans. And she looked exquisite when she walked down to Tristan, waiting for her at the foot of the grand staircase. He was in pale blue satin knee breeches, and a red brocade coat with a jabot of lace at his neck, and his hair had been powdered. She hardly recognized him. He smiled broadly when he saw her. He had never seen a woman look as lovely as Wachiwi in her new gown.
He complimented her as they got into the carriage, and it seemed like only moments later they were at the palace, as they chatted on the way. He could tell that she was nervous and she admitted it to him shyly. He patted her hand reassuringly, and told her she would be wonderful. He was sure of it.
The royal family had wintered at the Louvre, but they were already at their summer residence in Versailles, and Wachiwi could never have dreamed of anything as opulent as the hall they entered. The grounds and gardens and orchards had already impressed her as they arrived. They were led to where the king and queen were receiving, in a small private room before they joined the others. Tristan whispered to her just before they walked in, to remind her to make a deep curtsy to them both. She executed it to perfection, and the king thought her charming. Marie Antoinette ignored her, as she often did with guests. She was whispering to two of her ladies-in-waiting who were huddled near her. But the king more than made up for his inattentive wife, and eventually Marie Antoinette acknowledged her, and she and Wachiwi ended up giggling like two girls. Tristan was delighted and thought their audience with the king and queen had gone exceptionally well.
The king had asked about her tribe with interest. She told him about her father and five brothers, and Tristan added that she had a warrior’s skills with a horse. And then they left the room to join the hundreds waiting for the king and queen to enter. When they did, dinner was served, and there was music and dancing. People were milling about, talking to each other, trying to make deals and exchange information and trading gossip. Tristan introduced her to several of his friends, who were visibly intrigued by her, but neither disapproving of her nor shocked, as they had been in New Orleans. This was a far more sophisticated group and because she was an Indian, she was of greater interest to them. Her shining black hair had been arranged in enormous curls on top of her head, and the fact that it wasn’t powdered made her stand out more. Wachiwi was a great success, and Tristan was the envy of all the men who saw her. She couldn’t help thinking that this was a long, long way from the slave quarters to which she had been banished in New Orleans. And she looked as elegant as all the other women there in the dress that the marquis had ordered for her.
She was having such a good time she didn’t want to leave. She loved watching people dance although she had no idea how to do it, and she thought the music was lovely. It reminded Tristan that he really ought to teach her how to dance, particularly if he brought her to court again, which was beginning to seem likely. She had been far too big a hit not to bring her back, and she enjoyed it so much that he didn’t want to deprive her of some fun. It made everything far more pleasant for him as well, and for the first time in years he wasn’t bored all evening at court. He had fun watching her be fussed over, talk to people, and make friends.
She was still talking excitedly about everything as the carriage drove them back to the house on the rue du Bac, and he smiled as he listened to her. She looked as animated as Agathe after a birthday party with her friends.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he said to Wachiwi easily, relaxing in the carriage, happy that it was over. Even though he had had a much better time with her there, he always found visits to the court fatiguing and stressful, and the powder in his hair made him sneeze. She teased him about it as they rode along. She felt very important and very special, and she turned with a grateful look at him.
“Thank you for being so kind to me, Tristan. I had a wonderful time.” She only wished that Jean had been there. They both did. She still missed him, and so did his brother. “It was the most perfect evening of my life.” She expressed it so elegantly that he smiled. He had been very proud of her that night. So many people had approached her, and then afterward praised her to Tristan, he was actually surprised. He had expected at least some of the women to be critical of her, but they weren’t. They seemed only too happy to welcome her, and she was so innocent and open with everyone that they willingly embraced her. The king had made a point of telling him to be sure to bring her back.
When they reached the house, they chatted for a few minutes, and then said goodnight and went to their respective rooms, where the housekeeper helped her out of her finery. Wachiwi lay awake for most of the night, replaying every moment of the evening in her head, and still unable to believe she’d been to court. It was even better than she had expected, and far more wonderful than anything she’d hoped. And she had been very proud to be at court with Tristan, who as always had been so kind to her. And after a brief sleep, she was up early the next morning, and they met at breakfast again.
Tristan offered to show her some of the sights that day, and she could hardly wait to see them. They visited the gardens at the Palais Royal near the Louvre, and walked in the Tuileries Gardens. They drove to Notre Dame and the Place des Vosges in the Marais. She was bursting with excitement again when they got back to the house, and they had a quiet dinner that night in the dining room before going back to Brittany the next day. She was anxious to tell the children what it had been like to meet the king and queen. She had particularly promised to tell Agathe everything about it. And she was going to tell her how handsome her father had looked in his red brocade coat and blue satin breeches, and his elegant shoes with the buckles.
He looked entirely different when he got into the carriage to leave. He was wearing easy traveling clothes and a long black coat to protect his clothes from the dust on the road, and he covered Wachiwi with a blanket before they left in the cool morning air.
They talked for many hours this time as they rode along, and they stopped at small inns for lunch and dinner, and again for the night at an inn by the side of the road. The trip seemed to go faster on the way back, but it was still late on the second day of traveling when they reached the Chateau de Margerac, and everyone was sleeping. She thanked him again, and he told her that her trunks would be brought up in the morning. The men were tired from the long trip.
And even before breakfast, Wachiwi ran up the stairs to tell the children all about Paris and their evening at the court. Agathe said she wanted to go too one day, and Wachiwi said that she was sure she would. Her father would take her there and be very proud of her in a beautiful dress that he would have made for her, and she would look like a princess.
“And will you come too?” Agathe asked with dancing eyes, and Wachiwi hesitated before she answered. She didn’t know it, but Tristan was waiting for the answer too. He had just walked into the nursery when Agathe asked her the question, and Wachiwi hadn’t seen him.
“I don’t know if I’ll be here,” Wachiwi told her honestly. She never lied to children, or to anyone else. She was unfailingly honest. Her father had taught her that as a child. His wisdom and honesty had made him a great chief, respected by all who knew him. “That will be a long time from now, you know, and by then I’ll be an old woman, and I don’t know where I’ll be.”
“I want you to be here with us,” Agathe said, looking worried.
“Then she will be,” her father said, stepping forward, and Wachiwi looked startled and bade him good morning.
“By then, you’ll know everything there is to know about riding,” she said to him and his children with a smile. It had been an awkward moment for them all. “And I’ll be too old to teach you. I’ll have to ride Agathe’s pony.” The child giggled when she said it, which lightened the mood again. And the children claimed their father’s attention, as Wachiwi quietly slipped away and went back to her rooms.
Tristan found her there a few minutes later, after he left the nursery. “The children want you to stay, Wachiwi, and so do I.” He addressed the issue immediately. He hadn’t liked her answer either, nor had his children. They had brought it up again when she left the room.
“I can’t impose on you forever,” she said so elegantly that it was hard for him to believe she had only spoken
