Staring out my hotel room window, I can’t believe how much has happened since I gained possession of the diamond necklace. I never even imagined this could happen in all my possible scenarios. The necklace was suppose to be the key to my freedom, not to my captivity.
When it came time to pay for the necklace I presented the notes from “Marie Antoinette”, but these proved insufficient. Soon after, the King and Queen were notified and things escalated beyond repair. Rohan was arrested and taken to the Bastille, along with the prostitute Nicole Leguay, Rétaux de Villette, and Count Cagliostro, though it is unclear whether he was involved in the case of not. Later, the King and Queen insisted upon a public trial to defend their honour. As a result, it destroyed the reputation of the Queen, because the public saw her as the guilty party. Sides began to form and I knew stories would unravel. The court found me guilty and sentenced to be whipped, branded and imprisoned. I was condemned to prison for life in the Salpêtrière, but escaped disguised as a boy to make my way to London where, in 1789, I published my memoirs entitled Memoires Justificatifs de La Comtesse de Valois de La Motte. In doing this I appealed to the publics sympathy and attempted to justify my actions while casting blame upon my chief victim, Marie Antoinette.
To this day I still haven’t seen my husband again, nor have I lived the life of freedom I so rightly deserved. I hope the monarchy will rot in hell. I’ve lost blood shed and tears to this cause for this and I now only have one eye. The people are after me, more groups than one, my time is up. I feel myself falling through the sky, the wind rushing through my hair. The hard slap of the cold grey cement is all I remember before things went black.
The date August 23, 1791 now marks the day the thief, rebel, French adventuress, milkmaid, and many other titles, Jeanne de la motte, died.