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France, XVII century. Young Arabella, not knowing that such wealth and luxury, gets an invitation to the ball. Drugged to flatter the monarch, an innocent girl not notice that he is in the Royal bed. But the fee for the title mistress of the king is too high. The girl will have to visit the intoxicating harem of the East, the flight to sit down on the bed of a hated Sultan, to appear before himself with the Sacred court. And this is only the beginning of a difficult road leading to true love.

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Rough and loud voice of the king brought the girl from sad thoughts: – who are You, that I have reported to you before?! The Queen, or my wife think you are?! Get out and don’t ever that to me to arrange! – Lord nodded, Mocenigo, that he brought a daring lover. But Arabella de Frase began to scream and to escape: – Kill me! Penalty! Do what you want! You’ve ruined me without butchers and without a sword, even when the first time had been deceived and betrayed! Even the most terrible blows of the whip is nothing compared to the wound that’s in my heart! But nobody, will never see, and will not understand what suffering can cause as it seems the most wonderful feeling on Earth. You know, love is sweet only in look but bitter to the taste. What do you say?! Needless to say, king?! Or did you realize what you’ve done?!

The monarch so abruptly jumped up from the table, a crystal decanter, filled with aromatic, dense wine, with a crash fell on the carpet and smashed to pieces. Louis angrily walked over to his mistress, and seizing her hand, hissed like a wild, enraged beast: – Immediately shut up. Otherwise…

– Otherwise what? haughtily asked the charming French.

Male jerk took from his belt a dagger with a Golden handle, and held a blade to the neck of a young woman: – Otherwise you will lose life, unworthy slave! I’ll kill you right here, on this spot, to deliver thee, like you said, from the love that lived in your heart! the king stared into the eyes of Arabella, anticipating what a feeling raging in her soul. Tears dripped from the eyes of the girl, but the monarch, in a region filled with rage, slashed her blade. The blade nicked his neck not shocked the French, and the lower part of the left cheek. Blood, like bloody flowers blossomed on the dagger. But Arabella had not even cried from the pain because this wound is nothing compared to the one that bleeds in the shower.

Mr. Mocenigo ran up to Louis and grabbed his wrist, anxiously said: «Not necessary, Your Majesty! Let go of the knife, please!

Monarch sharply pushed a young woman and hit him in the face so violently that the poor thing fell on the floor: Get rid of her. Don’t let this snake catches my eye! the nobleman gently lifted the French woman quietly, almost silently whispered, "for God’s Sake, shut up. Do not argue with the Lord.

The daughter of the Duke boldly grabbed his hand at the man.

– This sin will remain on you, king! – quickly having sat down in a curtsey, Arabella ran out of the chambers of the beloved.

The girl, once in the hallway, did not hold back their tears. She, sobbing, weeping, frantically turned to the Advisor of the Lord: – Why You didn’t tell me? You knew about it! As You is able to hide from me?!

– Mademoiselle, calm yourself. I don’t wish You harm. I just feared that, on learning of the wedding, You decide to prevent the arrival of the Infanta, and it will be the beginning of a bloody feud between the two dynasties. Look, I didn’t mean to say it, but I will: this marriage is a very important political move, a Union of States. The king can not because of love for a simple girl to disobey orders of the Queen mother, to go against the whole of Spain. The monarchs never married for love, and our Lord, a supporter of the laws and traditions that do not violate this rule. If You really love, then accept, otherwise everything will only get worse. Marriage and love never walked together under this roof. In these palaces, a hundred mistresses of the ancestors of the Bourbons, and each waited patiently for his sovereign, silent, obedient, got what I expected: property, honor and a rare night of love. Having embarked on a minion You from the very beginning agreed with such rules, without even knowing it. Arabella, You are still a concubine of the king, so it was to be. You belong to him, and he occasionally will belong to You.

French woman, swallowing her tears, replied, proudly raised his head: – the fact of the matter is that I remain only a concubine and not…, – the girl suddenly cried from a sharp pain. Fresh wound on his cheek continued to bleed.

My lady, You have a deep cut. You need to handle it immediately, "observed the gentleman, touching the bloody cheek of Mademoiselle de Frase.

Madam, moving away from the lady, suddenly hissed an evil voice, "Get off of me! Don’t touch me! – a young Parisian woman, sobbing, ran down the hallway. Nobleman a sad look accompanied Arabella. The man didn’t even try to catch up with the mistress of his master, to calm, to give friendly advice, for he knew perfectly well that if a woman has decided to revenge, she can’t get in the way because it will destroy any obstacles, however challenging they may be.

The girl fell to her knees and cried out, bringing the eye to the ceiling: – why, God?! For that you have taken me away from my life, with my beloved king?! What ushered in the love astray?! What did I do to You?! For what sins am I paying?! Have mercy, o Lord, your unworthy servant, that succumbed to the filthy Vice! Do not punish me more for this blow is the worst! Ice froze my heart, and the relentless fire burnt up the soul! This feeling, like an arrow, plunged into me, haunts me. Why he did it?! Why forced to suffer?! Is this the fee for my love and loyalty? Tell me, Oh, Heavens, what is more important: love in poverty, or loneliness in luxury? My eyes that devoured beautiful form of the beloved, drowning in tears, and in them, except the aching emptiness, nothing more. Why so harsh?

Arabella sat in the corner of the hallway and pulled his knees to his chin, clasping their trembling, bloody hands. Now she already did not cry, but it is a feeling of detachment from the world itself was terrible. It seemed that she was slowly drowning in the ocean of pain and those red, cold eyes never see a ray of sunshine.

He heard the steps… In the light of the dim lamps seemed vague, dark silhouette Jesse. A young maid with a cry fell back, seeing sitting in the shade Mademoiselle de Frase. Fresh blood ran down his cheek rejected mistress, but the French did not pay the slightest attention. The lady’s maid, frantically clutching a candle, went to his lady, and, quietly kneeling down, put his hand on the cold wrist Arabella: «What’s wrong, Milady? – Jesse’s voice was as dull and colorless as the voice of the daughter of the Duke.

The king’s mistress, her head turned away and groaned, but so softly that the maid was barely able to decipher the following words: – Take me to my room…

– Madam, where did You get this wound? Who dared You to do this?

– Do not dare to ask. Just do what I ordered, in the girl’s voice was heard commanding tone. Not for the first time Jesse felt only the jerk in front of mistress. Gently lifting my lady, the maid led her down the deserted, frightening corridors. English repeatedly asked Arabella, what is it that happened, but the Parisienne was silent, not taking his eyes from the extinct one dead point. It was clear that the king still struck a terrible blow to the one that recently called the beloved, the only rose in the spring garden.

Finally we saw the doors of the bedchamber Mademoiselle de Frase. The maid put Arabella on a soft bed, removing the top lady dress.

– Ma’am, tell me what happened? You’re scaring me with his silence and aloofness.

– Irreparable happened! "said the girl.

Jesse sighed and walked over to the cupboard and took the ointment of wild herbs, carefully prepared, rustic old wife is a Gypsy. The lady’s maid gently struck liquid, foul—smelling medicine on Arabella’s cheek. French woman suddenly exclaimed. This pain led her out of the shock. Just now young beauty felt a chin dripping crimson, like rose buds, a drop of blood.

– Mademoiselle, – asked the mistress English: – Your wound may again start bleeding. And it is unlikely that this ointment will have the desired effect. It might be better to fetch the healer? Let’s examine, properly washed, will impose seams.

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