Principium.
My name is Nathaniel Blumenthal. As I sit in my old age in front of my log fire and ruminate on my life, I am awash with great joy and great sorrow. My personal life has been richly rewarded but, alas, that of my best friend’s has been nothing but remorse. The tale I’m about to weave is all from my personal experience, and I regale you with much trepidation.
My dearest friend Duke Nicholas Montaque and I both came from very well-to-do families in London, and we were inseparable companions from birth, our family estates bordering one another. Nicholas was a very precocious child; education was second nature to him. Even with difficult math problems he could cut to the chase in minutes. On the contrary, I had a good agile mind, but nothing compared to his. This showed in our tenure at Oxford University where he graduated with honours. At university, he could have any girl he wished but none of them satisfied him, as he was always looking for something that didn’t exist.
After graduating, it was off to Paris to sow our wild oats. We were invited to all the high society balls including King Louis Philippe’s galas, which were scrumptious affairs. At one such affair, Nicholas took home the beautiful Duchess Anne Marie d’ Orleans and ended up spending the remainder of the weekend with her. When I asked him what he thought of her, he said, “She’s not bad.” It was during one of these forays to an aristocratic home to be entertained by some of Ahh, l’amour’s best, that I was to meet my future wife. After the evening’s entertainment was concluded, everyone retired to the lounge area, which was lavishly decked out in the most exquisite furniture, life-size sculptures, paintings of the greats of France. We all settled down with our drinks and hors d’ oeuvre to enjoy the company. I settled down and, more by chance, a lady came and sat beside me. As we turned to face one another, the rapport between us was electrifying. I knew immediately that here was my future wife.
“Bonjour, mademoiselle. Enchante.” I stood to bow over her hand.
“Oui monsieur, my name is Princess Josephine Chevalier.”
“My name is the Marque Nathaniel Blumenthal. I’m from England.”
This was the beginning of a lifelong romance. We spent the remainder of the night together and the remainder of my time in Paris.
