Wachiwi accepted his invitation with pleasure. She always enjoyed her conversations with him. They spoke of many things—he was very knowledgeable, and her French was proficient now. The one thing she didn’t know, and wished to learn, was how to read. He had promised to teach her, but hadn’t had time to do it that winter. She wanted to read the books in his library. They looked fascinating to her.

He told her about some of the current intrigues at court that night at dinner, and why they fatigued him. People had been complaining about the queen and her extravagance for several years. Tristan had always found Marie Antoinette a pleasant woman, even if silly when she was young. But now that she had begun having babies in the past few years, she seemed more serious to him, and more mature. He had no patience with the politics and manipulations of the ministers, the courtesans, and all the opportunists who gravitated to the court. He told Wachiwi that the queen was Austrian, not French, which people tended to forget, and she had become queen as barely more than a child. Her marriage was arranged when she was fourteen. Wachiwi explained that that happened in Indian culture too. Girls married very young, and most marriages were arranged. She was grateful her father hadn’t done that to her. Undeniably, the queen had led the court into incredible excesses and people were constantly vying for her favor and her ear. It was a lot of power for a young girl. But it was all too much for him. He was a quiet man who enjoyed managing his vast properties, and spending time in the outdoors. They were still talking about the court at the end of dinner, and Wachiwi found what he told her very interesting, but she could tell that he didn’t. Jean had told her that he had never liked court much either, and had been happy to flee to the New World, rather than get caught up in the intrigues of the court. But as head of the family and owner of extensive lands, the marquis couldn’t avoid his responsibilities to the king, and couldn’t shun going to court. It was even more tedious for him now without his wife. At least he had enjoyed showing her off and dancing with her. Now he stood talking politics with the men all night.

As they left the dining room, Tristan turned to her with a warm smile. Their evenings together were always pleasant, and they had stayed at table that night for a long time. He was lonely at times, and had been since his wife’s death, and he envied Wachiwi her nightly dinners in the nursery with his children. He would have enjoyed that too, but it would have seemed odd for him to be there. Something had occurred to him that night during dinner, and he suggested it cautiously to Wachiwi.

“Would you like to come to court with me next time? I have to go in a few weeks. It might be interesting for you to see it, and I’m sure the king and queen would like to meet you.” She was very flattered to be asked. She was worried that she didn’t have the proper clothes, but he said he’d see to it that the local dressmaker made something suitable for her, and she thanked him for his kind invitation. She mentioned it to the children the next day, and they were excited for her. Agathe said she thought she should wear her pretty dress with the porcupine quills, and Wachiwi smiled mysteriously when she said it. The child’s birthday was a few days away, and Wachiwi had been working on a present for her for months, and it was almost ready.

It had been singularly hard for her to find all the materials she needed for the gift. In her village all of it would have been easy. Here it was a challenge to find each piece she needed. She hadn’t been able to find elkskin, but she had been able to buy deerskin in the village, which reminded her of Jean’s buckskin trousers that she had given away when he died. The porcupine quills had taken months to find. Tristan’s game warden had gotten them for her. And she was delighted to find the right berries to make the paste she needed to dye them. She had taken the beads off the shirt she’d made for Jean. She preferred to give them to his niece now. She had carefully sewn them on the tiny deerskin dress. And she had had enough left over to make a pair of moccasins for her. And on Agathe’s birthday she carefully wrapped the gifts in a soft red cloth and tied it, and she gave the package to her in the nursery that morning. The child squealed with glee when she saw them. She insisted on putting them on immediately much to Mademoiselle’s horror, and to Wachiwi’s delight they fit perfectly. It was an exact replica of her own dress with the porcupine quills, only it was fresh and new and perfectly proportioned for her, and the moccasins fit her small feet exactly. Agathe was so excited that she ran downstairs to show her father, without asking for her governess’s permission. And the moment her father saw her, he burst out laughing.

“You look like a little Sioux!” Agathe was beaming and preened proudly for him. And when Wachiwi followed her downstairs, he thanked her. “Now if you can teach me to ride like one, I will be very happy.” But she had already taught him enough that he had become a far more skilled rider, and so had Matthieu. She had shared many of her talents and customs with them, and it was hard for any of them to believe that she had already been there for five months. Doing little things for them was the only way she could think of to repay them for their kindness. She still had no idea where to go, or what she would do when she left them, but she knew that sooner or later, she had to move on, whether she wanted to or not. She couldn’t take advantage of Tristan’s kindness and hospitality forever. But in the meantime, the dress and shoes for Agathe were an enormous success.

And the gown Tristan had made for Wachiwi for court was even more so. It arrived the day before they left for Paris. It fit her perfectly, and she looked spectacular in it. It was a heavenly pink satin, and had a deep décolletage and an enormous skirt with huge extensions on either side, beautiful sleeves trimmed with lace, and a lace shawl to wear with it. The color was very flattering to her, and Agathe gasped when Wachiwi tried the dress on, and assured her that she looked like a queen. She showed Tristan and he approved as well. The gown was packed in its own trunk, and she took several of the dresses Jean had given her the year before. All of her things were carried in a separate coach when they left for Paris. They rode in Tristan’s elegant carriage.

The children waved goodbye when they left, and Wachiwi looked nervous and excited. She and Tristan chatted easily on the long two-day drive. They had left the château at nearly dawn, drove into the evening, and stopped at an inn along the road. The accommodations were decent but no more than that, and on the second day, they arrived in Paris after midnight. The house in Paris had been prepared for them. There were candles burning everywhere, the furniture had been polished till it gleamed, and one of the bedrooms had been opened and aired for her. She was sleepy when she walked into the house on the rue du Bac, but dazzled when she saw the main hall, the beautiful marble staircase, and her apartment. And it had been exciting just driving through the city late at night. Tristan had gone to his own rooms once he put Wachiwi into the hands of the housekeeper and told her he would see her in the morning.

She could hardly sleep that night she was so excited, and she was up early the next morning. She was surprised to see Tristan already downstairs, finishing his breakfast. He left shortly after, saying he had business to attend to. He told Wachiwi to rest all day, and they would leave for court that afternoon. A hairdresser was coming to do her hair, and would powder it if she wished, but she didn’t like the idea, and preferred to leave it her natural 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.