Every mirror reflects a lie.

“Versailles had one throne. One crown. And she dared to sit beside me.”

They called her the Queen of Versailles.
They whispered that she ruled me.
But no one rules the Sun.

Athénaïs de Montespan was my fire — bold, brilliant, impossible to tame.
She mocked my crown, tested my patience, and dared to look me in the eye when others bowed.
With her, every night was a duel: passion sharpened into poison, kisses laced with rivalry.

In the Hall of Mirrors, we played our most dangerous games.
Masks, lies, secrets — she wielded them like weapons.
And when the scandal of witchcraft and poison wrapped her name in shadows, I had to decide:
Destroy her, or let her destroy me.

She was never my jewel in a cage.
She was the flame that burned the Sun.

“Every kiss was a battle. Every surrender, a war I refused to lose.”