The following story has been submitted to the 2020 National Nude Day contest.
Many, many thanks to AwkwardMD for beta reading this whimsical tale and offering her constructive insights!
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My name is Gisele d'Évreux, born of nobility to Auguste and Jeanne d'Évreux in the grand apartments of the Château de Versailles at the time of King Louis XIV's reign. I have been told that on that day the phlox began to burst with their clusters of golden-yellow flowers as the sun drew near to its highest point in the sky, thus marking the commencement of midsummer. It was a time when the sun appeared to pause in the sky and a period of transition was at hand.
My family spent many summers at Versailles, along with several other families and government officials. The palace complex had various amenities: elaborate gardens, a hall of mirrors, extravagant fountains, a private zoo, and a great many other remarkable things. What I rarely had at my disposal, however, were my mother and father. Father was often off busying himself with diplomatic concerns. My mother and I had been close growing up while she ensured that I was well-educated and disciplined. Though, as I grew older, my mother distanced herself more and more, handing me over to my growing independence and the emerging duties of womanhood. She expected me to marry well and raise my own family.
If it weren't for my best friend, Antoinette, I would have greatly suffered at the cruel hand of loneliness. Antoinette and I had grown up in the palace together, spending the warmer months there when we were not busying ourselves with our studies in Paris. From the start, she was like a sister to me... or something more. Together we ran through the sprawling gardens and played by the reflecting pools telling stories to our wavering images. We picked flowers and assembled them in our hair before running off to the cool shade of the groves to lounge about eating grapes and stolen truffles that the bakers carelessly left unattended in the kitchen... until someone caught us red-handed, faces messy with chocolate.
Antoinette and I naively imagined that our lives would remain this way indefinitely; forever playmates making merry in a world of constant whimsy. However, as we reached the age of eighteen a sadness grew inside us. Antoinette was preparing to be wed to Lord Morris, Earl of Chester and would soon leave France, moving far away to England to remain by his side, perhaps never to be seen by me again. It was no secret that neither of them was in love; such unions were highly political and to be anything more than that required a stroke of luck so rarely heralded by the Fates. I, too, would be subject to such a fate; left alone to review my suitors one by one, considering which would be the most strategic partner to serve.
I would rather have flung myself into the wide, cold sea.
No -- I would rather have spent the rest of my life with Antoinette, skipping out on the extravagant balls to go frolicking in the gardens under the twinkling stars with the sweet scent of night-blooming jasmine and other exotic imported plants from the greenhouses filling the night air. As the date of Antoinette's union to the Earl grew closer, she and I spent more and more time by each other's side, desperate to cling to our last moments together before fate cruelly tore us apart.
One evening, Antoinette and I had run off to my private quarters to indulge in a hot bath, a treat we occasionally shared. I had a room all to myself at the end of a long hallway in the east wing of the palace where many of the wealthy children were raised together. Laughing and making silly, we ducked inside and carefully locked the door behind us, relieved to return to a comforting sanctum where two girls such as us could do as we pleased.
"I will say, though, that if running is to not be permitted in the gallery then it should not have been constructed at such a tempting length!" Antoinette declared, collapsing at the edge of my bed.
I began giggling. "Did you see Madame Bouthillette's face when you nearly collided with his Red Eminence?!"
"Ugh, I've always detested that painting," she replied.
"I will tell you one thing -- if I were made to suffer under as many robes as Cardinal Richelieu, I am quite sure I would not have been able to remain on my feet long enough to pose for a portrait such as that."
"It is made all the more silly with that absurd mustache!"
I grinned at Antoinette as she made a brief mockery of him. "At least he was a patron of the arts," I added thoughtfully.
"Yes, I suppose one must give him that. He gave us
Diana at the Bath
, after all."
"The bath!" I exclaimed. "I shall check on it."
I ran into the bathroom; a private domain which only Antoinette and the maids had access to. No one could bother me there as I whiled away the hours in the fantasy of my mind, gazing at myself in the mirror and conducting experiments with a selection of paints and powders. Most of all, I cherished my collection of rare scents gathered from the farthest-flung corners of the world.
My perfumes took me places, whether it was to the Amalfi coast with its salty ocean spray and fresh lemon tang, or the hot baked earth of the desert with its spices and myrrh, warm breezes fragrant with sandalwood and jasmine. Oakmoss and musk opened a door one day, marine accords and bergamot the next, filling my mind with images of intrepid expeditions through many an exotic land. And then there were the bottles. -- Oh, the bottles! Some sculpted like spindly sandcastles, others gaunt and sleek, still others squat and fat like oversized, ornamental dewdrops, each of them translucent and glittering on my counter, filled with all the colors of the rainbow.
I confirmed that the hot water I had summoned was awaiting us in my large, clawfoot tub. It was a long, porcelain vessel with four heavy paws at the base, achieving a stylized look. I recalled how, as a small child, I imagined my tub was a powerful lioness. I would sink into the warm water, giving myself a soapy beard to pretend I was a military general. I would imagine the tub springing to life, hoisting itself up onto its paws and then marching out of my private quarters. There I would be, giggling and sloshing about inside as it marched right out the door to my room and down the hallway as I barked orders to imaginary soldiers.
I left the water to cool to the right temperature and rejoined Antoinette who had already wrestled out of the tight bodice of her dress before breathing a sigh of relief. She and I stood by the windows, undressing in the moonlight. Upon removing her corset, the glow from the windows cast her skin in a silvery sheen, splashing across the flat plane of her stomach and deepening her silhouette. Antoinette's rosy nipples caught the light and drew tiny shadows upon her breasts as they firmed up in the evening air.
