This book has been on my TBR for close to three years. I have had it on my TBRs always at the end and not priority and I made it a priority this month. I did not know how long it would take me to read it because it is a historical fiction set during the French Revolution and it as Marie Antionette as a character.
I read this book in three days. Before starting this, I was doubting myself that I wouldn't like it and that I would be bored. I really enjoyed it and it reminded me a lot of A Tale of Two Cities and Les Miserables. I should have expected that there would be some religious aspects because I received a review copy from a Christian book company.
This book is about two orphan girls named Renee and Laurette. They are cousins and they have dead parents and a parent who abandoned them. They get taken in by this farmer named Gagnon. He is a young widower who is a well respected farmer in the village. The girls grow up to be sheep herders. One day while Renee is in the field with the sheep, a beautiful carriage tips over and the occupant inside is one of the Queen's ladies of court. Her name is Madame Gisela and she takes a liking to Renee when she fixes the Lady's dress that was given to her by the Queen. Madame Gisela take Renee back with her to Versailles where she becomes the Seamstress.
Starting out, I was annoyed with the character Laurette. She was bossy and she was jealous of Renee because she caught the eye of Marcel, the drifter and an activist of the Revolution. Marcel is just a bad character but I did shed a tear at the end at what he asked. Laurette eventually became my favorite POV to read and her relationship with Gagnon was beautiful.
Also, I know next to nothing about Marie Antionette beside her famous phrase, "Let them eat cake". This book made her seem like she was a frivolous and cold hearted person who only cared about herself to the French people. But to the people close to her, like Renee, she was a attentive mother who cared passionately about her children and didn't have her own identity.
