The queen’s final words reached Athénaïs de Montespan in the form of a ring. María Teresa of Spain, wife of Louis XIV and queen of France, was dying, and in her last days she had made a deliberate choice about the small circle of women around her. She sent a special ring not to the Marquise de Montespan, her husband’s official mistress for more than a decade, but to Françoise d’Aubigné, the devout widow who had spent years resisting the king’s advances. The message was unmistakable.

The queen was thanking the one woman who had stood between Louis and his chief mistress. It was, for Madame de Montespan, the most cutting insult of her life. The woman who had believed herself the rightful queen of France had been dismissed by the actual queen in her final gesture. And worse was yet to come—within months, the king would begin a relationship with the very woman who had received that ring.

Athénaïs had never doubted her place. Born Françoise de Rochechouart de Mortemart, she descended from one of the most powerful families in France. Her father was a prince, her mother a lady-in-waiting. The ambition that would define her life was practically woven into her birth.

As a girl, she was sent to the Convent of Saint Mary for her education, while her older sister Gabrielle married well and climbed the ranks of the court of King Louis XIV. Louis took a liking to Gabrielle, and the two began an affair. It was into this world—a court where favor and royal attention were everything—that young Françoise stepped when she reached the age of twenty, entering as a maid of honor to Princess Henrietta Anne, wife of the king’s brother Philippe. That household was a strange place to begin a court career.

Henrietta Anne’s husband, Philippe, Duke of Orléans, was openly given to gay affairs, and the marriage was famously dysfunctional. It must have made for an awkward atmosphere for the young maid of honor. What surprised everyone was that Françoise then struck up a brief affair with Philippe himself. It was a first taste of the intrigue she would master, but only a taste.

Being young and unmarried, she was expected to find a husband quickly. One suitor caught her eye: the Marquis de Noirmoutier. Her father, however, preferred another match, the Marquis d’Antin. The two marquises refused to settle the matter by negotiation, and they fought a duel.

Louis XIV had outlawed dueling. The law was clear, and the king was known to enforce it. At the end of the duel, the Marquis d’Antin lay dead. Under the royal decree, the survivor of any duel was to be executed.

The Marquis de Noirmoutier fled the country, and with him went both of Françoise’s prospects of marriage. In the aftermath of this disaster, Françoise encountered the Marquis de Montespan, the younger brother of the dead man. The two grew close over their shared loss, and within only a week of the fatal duel, they had fallen in love. Their families hastily drew up a marriage contract and had it signed.

There was possibly a secret reason for the rush. Nine months later, Françoise gave birth to her first child. From this marriage she took the name by which history would know her: Madame de Montespan. At first, the union seemed built on a solid foundation of love, but the cracks appeared quickly.

The marquis loved spending money, and the couple had little of it. Beneath the strains of their finances, Athénaïs knew she had to find a way to earn more. She set her sights high. Queen María Teresa was hiring ladies-in-waiting, and the position came with prestige, money, and housing.

Athénaïs cleverly used her connection with the king’s brother to secure the job. Now she had a place at court, but the position also brought her face to face with an old friend, Louise de La Vallière, who had become the king’s chief mistress. Seeing how lavishly her friend lived, Athénaïs was filled with envy. She set her sights on the king himself.

She was patient. She stayed in the background, going about her duties, waiting to make her move. Then, by chance, she received an opening. Queen María Teresa became pregnant, and at the same time, oddly enough, Louise de La Vallière also became pregnant.

The king found himself lonely, and there was Madame de Montespan to entertain him. It was the perfect moment she had been waiting for. The king was lonely, and he wanted her. All she had to do was give in to his advances.

But suddenly, the seriousness of what she was getting into overwhelmed her. She went to her husband and begged him to take her away to the country estate. The marquis, rather disinterested, declined. Soon after, King Louis went off to participate in battles, as was his custom, and he took the most spirited ladies of the court along with him.

Madame de Montespan was invited on one such journey. It was during this trip that they finally became lovers. They kept the affair a secret, hiding it from the queen and, ironically, from the chief mistress as well. Eventually, the queen received an anonymous letter exposing the affair between the king and her lady-in-waiting.

Madame de Montespan denied the claims, and somehow it worked. The queen even said she would not let anyone turn herself against such loyal women. The affair continued. Athénaïs and Louis were passionate, but there was a dark side.

Louis expected his women to have boundless energy, both in and out of the bedroom, and never wanted to hear a complaint. When they were pregnant, he did not want to hear about physical pain and expected them to bounce back to regular life soon after giving birth. For now, Athénaïs was young and up to the challenge of matching the king’s vigor. There was much food, dancing, balls, and races, and he lavished her with gifts.

Despite all this, Louise de La Vallière remained the official chief mistress. The king had not yet given Athénaïs a title, but he showed his devotion in other ways. He gave her an apartment at Versailles with twenty rooms. In comparison, his own wife, Queen María Teresa, had only eleven.

One would think all this attention would attract the suspicions of the Marquise de Montespan’s husband. But he was away, participating in battles near the Spanish border. To make sure he stayed there, the king ensured he received lavish praise for his efforts. In 1668, the affair bore new fruit when Athénaïs discovered she was pregnant.

Louis helped her have a secret birth, but things were becoming harder to hide. Eventually, her parents found out. Surprisingly, they were fine with it, knowing that being so close to the king of France was an esteemed position. Her husband’s reaction, when he finally returned to Paris and learned of the affair, was entirely different.

He was furious. He went about telling everyone he could that the king was a scoundrel. Since everyone knew the king always had many mistresses, no one seemed to care. The marquis took it up a notch.

He started frequenting brothels in an effort to contract syphilis, which he intended to pass to his wife and, through her, to the king himself. That was a step too far. The king banished the marquis to his country estate. Unfortunately, the marquis took their three-year-old son along with him.

Madame de Montespan would not see her own son again for another nine years. Being the unofficial mistress of the king meant she would inevitably become pregnant again. In total, Athénaïs had seven children with Louis XIV. Because of her complicated marital situation, she had the children sent away and entrusted to an old friend, a widow named Madame Scarron, who raised them.

Athénaïs and Louis would visit the children whenever they could. In 1673, the king showed his dedication to Athénaïs by legitimizing their children, and in 1674, Madame de Montespan was finally able to separate from her husband. Around the same time, Louise de La Vallière finally decided to leave the court. Now Madame de Montespan was one step closer to her goal: becoming chief mistress.

Freed from the unpleasant situation with her husband and from the awkward presence of Louise de La Vallière, Athénaïs was exactly where she wanted to be. The next years were full of unbridled joy for her and the king. Eventually, Louis made her his chief mistress. The appointment greatly inflated her ego.

To honor her, he offered to build her a pavilion. She demanded an entire château instead. It would end up costing two million livres, which in today’s money is roughly thirty-six million dollars. Furthermore, she started to expect prestigious appointments for all her family members, and when she did not get her way, she would often throw tantrums.

As her power and prestige grew, so did the staff working under her. She deliberately brought on ladies she viewed as less beautiful than herself, in order to keep the king’s attention away from them. To her dismay, the king started to value Madame Scarron—the devoted, kind woman who took care of all the illegitimate children they had produced. In many ways, she was the polar opposite of Athénaïs.

She was calm, pious, and smart. To show his appreciation for her, the king bestowed upon her the title of Marquise de Maintenon. Athénaïs obviously did not like this, and occasionally tensions flared between them, but for the most part, they kept things civil. Beneath the surface, however, issues were brewing.

Madame de Maintenon believed that the king’s affair was sinful, and she wanted to save his soul. Little did Athénaïs know that Madame de Maintenon had brought a bishop into court to help her. During Easter of 1675, Madame de Montespan went to confession, only to be refused by the priest, who had deemed her too scandalous. She immediately went to the king for help, who in turn went to speak with the bishop that Madame de Maintenon had brought on.

The bishop castigated him for his affair. Surprisingly, after hearing the bishop’s harsh words, the king agreed to break off his affair with Madame de Montespan. When she heard about this, she panicked and locked herself in her room for two days straight. Then she decided to take a temporary leave from the court and from her position as chief mistress, in the hope that her absence would make the king come begging for her.

Apparently, the plan worked. It was an entire year before they saw each other again, during a ball held by the queen. As soon as the king saw Athénaïs, he ran across the floor to greet her. Despite this display of affection, the king was still keen on being pious and faithful to his wife.

Athénaïs had to try harder. So what did she do? She wept in front of him. Her plan succeeded gloriously, and the king fell for her again.

The next few years were as happy for the king and Athénaïs as they had been previously. They spent their time indulging in food, wine, and much more together. But not everyone was happy about this. Queen María Teresa was upset that her husband was being unfaithful again, and Madame de Maintenon was not pleased with the bishop for fumbling her plans.

After some years of this, Athénaïs began to find it hard to keep up with the king’s lifestyle. Even though she was his main mistress, the king’s appetite for infidelity was large, and he would frequently have smaller side affairs with other women at the same time as he was carrying on with her. Much to her chagrin, there was little she could do about these minor dalliances. Her main concern was keeping Madame de Maintenon away from the king.

So when a beautiful young woman named Marie Angélique de Fontanges appeared at court one day, she paid her little attention. This was a big mistake. Soon, Marie Angélique and the king became entwined in a blossoming affair. When Athénaïs found out, she threw tantrums and yelled at the king.

This was an even bigger mistake, as the king had no patience for it, and it drove a wedge between them. After many pregnancies, Madame de Montespan was no longer the energetic young lady that Louis had fallen for. Despite her being the king’s official mistress, it was Marie Angélique who ruled his bedroom. Furthermore, the king was becoming closer to the pious Madame de Maintenon, who was now one of his dear friends.

Eventually, the king got tired of Marie Angélique. A difficult pregnancy made her fall ill, and rumors began to spread that someone was trying to poison her. At first, it seemed preposterous—until she actually died. This sparked much gossip that someone may have poisoned her.

People began to accuse one another, and the prime suspect was the chief mistress herself. This was the beginning of the famous Affair of the Poisons. It wasn’t just Madame de Montespan who was implicated, but many other important members of the king’s court. This was a humiliation for the king, and it imperiled his power and legacy.

An accusation came out that the most notorious poison dealer in Paris had a connection to Madame de Montespan. Allegedly, Athénaïs had plotted with her to get rid of her old rival Louise de La Vallière. It was also said that the poison dealer plotted to use Athénaïs’s proximity to the king to poison him as well. Further witnesses even claimed that Athénaïs had used black magic and dark rituals to keep the king’s love.

These accusations were very far-fetched, but the worst was that Madame de Montespan had poisoned Marie Angélique. Whether or not these accusations were true, Madame de Montespan was lucky. The notorious poison dealer from Paris, when questioned, denied ever having worked with her. Athénaïs was off the hook.

But the damage was already done. Although the accusations had not been proven, her reputation had been tarnished. The sheer number of people close to the king who had been implicated in the affair was shocking, and dozens were tried, convicted, and executed. Even after all this, she still stayed on as the king’s official mistress, but in title only.

The king didn’t want to sack her, as it might imply that she was guilty. So he let her stay but only visited her occasionally, without any of the love and passion they once had. Then, in 1680, Queen María Teresa died. Before she died, she delivered her final insult: the ring to Madame de Maintenon, thanking her for resisting the king’s advances and for getting in between the king and his chief mistress.

Madame de Montespan was shocked. But what she did not know was that after this, the king would begin a relationship with Madame de Maintenon herself, though it would remain a quiet, unacknowledged bond. Athénaïs watched powerlessly as the pious Madame de Maintenon transformed the king from a decadent indulger into a devout and modest king. The new, conservative Louis banned many things from his court, including low-cut dresses and even bare arms.

It was over for Athénaïs. She had finally lost. But she still stayed in the royal court for another ten years, albeit without any of the power or influence she had formerly possessed. Eventually, the king asked her to leave.

She packed her bags and went to live in the château that Louis had built for her all those years before. After some time, and ironically enough, she would even leave the château and move to a convent. As she grew older, her health declined. She died in the year 1707.

King Louis’s reaction was restrained. He did not even attend her funeral. He seemed to view her as something from his past that he had already moved on from many years ago. Interestingly, her former rival, Madame de Maintenon, wept at the news of her passing.

Madame de Montespan was the most famous mistress of King Louis XIV. Her life was filled with drama, excitement, and passion, as well as scandals, gossip, and rivalry. It is possible that in her later years she may have felt remorse, for in contrast to her more sinful younger years, she lived in a convent and devoted much time to charity work.