Original subtitles

Get up. It's not the time to be late.

It's okay. He is just a man. Go ahead. I'll catch up.

What's the problem? Do you regret it?

Huh?

No. It's just that…

It's just that we love making love together,

but we also love cooking together,

and we don't want sex to mess things up.

Antonin Carême.

Let's be clear.

I don't expect anything from you.

What's that?

Old stuff.

Old stuff?

It's my life.

You don't give a damn, right?

Exactly.

CITY OF PARIS - BIRTH CERTIFICATE - HÔTEL DE GALLIFFET

"Marie-Antoine Carême, born June 8 at Galliffet…"

We'll have to dust these off, so be careful.

Do you expect the Holy Father to believe that you come here every day?

The pope lodges at Galliffet during the coronation.

I must offer him a place to pray.

You convinced my husband that I shouldn't be crowned.

No woman has ever been empress in French history.

No bishop has ever married a whore before you.

There has to be a first time for everything, right?

The pope comes here reluctantly.

He'll look for any excuse not to crown Bonaparte.

So I will not take any risk.

Move the benches forward. All of them.

Why do you hate me so much?

Hate you?

It's the opposite.

I even have a kind of admiration for your journey.

Today you have come to the end of what you could bring to your husband.

He'll become emperor. He needs a woman who can offer him an alliance

and, above all, a descendant.

My daughter, Hortense, is about to give birth.

The question of heir will soon be resolved.

Pray for it to be a boy.

You will not have a second chance.

I'll see you at the hall.

Prince.

There will be no coronation without me.

Do you believe in God?

I don't know. But just in case.

It's really not the time to pray.

She's got some nerve. She arrived five minutes ago.

At least she's here.

What is it?

My birth certificate.

I don't know how to read.

Liliane, did you know I was born here at Galliffet?

- I really don't have time. - What do you mean you don't have time?

The pope is already here. Come and help us prepare the dishes.

His Holiness, the pope.

Madame Bonaparte.

Most Holy Father.

Your reputation precedes you, Madame.

For the better, I hope.

My son, Charles.

And my wife, the princess of Talleyrand-Périgord.

A bishop who is married and a father. That's original.

That's what your philosophers call progress, no doubt.

Your Holiness's predecessor was kind enough to excommunicate me

to allow me to do this.

You were not excommunicated because you loved women

but because you sold Church property during the Revolution

when your duty was to defend it.

Madame Louis Bonaparte!

What is this fantasy? In your state?

I'm delighted to see you too, dear Mother.

I came to pay homage to His Holiness, as you did.

I hoped for a blessing for my baby.

Here, in the hope of France, is the last fruit of the Bonaparte family.

Let's eat. You must be famished.

Antonin Carême, the best cook in France.

But isn't it Friday?

Exactly.

White meat, fish, fresh vegetables.

It's a Friday meal in the purest Catholic tradition.

Just looking at them makes your mouth water.

I must remind you that gluttony is a capital sin.

If God gave me a talent, I should use it.

He also gave you pride, apparently.

Unless this gift comes from your master.

I'll choose prayer over debauchery.

Where is the chapel?

I'll take you.

Didn't Jesus have Mary Magdalene by his side?

Yes, but at least she repented.

I'm going to accompany His Holiness.

I know the way.

Stop! That's enough.

- What do you mean, "that's enough"? - The pope isn't eating.

Why not?

Carême, will you answer me?

Since there is no other way to do it…

What do you want?

This certificate says I was born here

at Hôtel de Galliffet.

8th of June, 1783.

- Were you already here? - So what?

You wouldn't be the first kid to be born in this house.

Did you know I was born here?

No, I didn't know

until I saw your mother's portrait on a medallion in your box.

Because you knew my mother?

Yes, she died giving birth to you.

Tell me it's not him.

Monsieur still has dreams of grandeur.

Tell me he's not my father.

I don't know.

Where is this fucking medallion?

Father!

Father!

Is he here?

- What's going on? - It's Hortense.

I was just looking for Your Holiness for the final preparations.

Prince, there can be no coronation.

The pope cannot, in good conscience,

crown a man who lives in sin with his mistress.

Bonaparte and his wife have only had a civil marriage.

It has no value in the eyes of the Church.

Your Holiness, I implore you to reconsider your plans.

You left the government to appoint the bishops in my place.

The priests are just ordinary civil servants.

I endure all these humiliations

so that the French Catholics can live their faith without hindrance.

But don't ask me for the impossible.

You've gone a little too far, Prince.

Have the luggage packed. We leave tomorrow.

Can't you see she's manipulating you?

Are you questioning the clairvoyance of His Holiness?

It's not just the coronation that interests you.

You want a religious wedding

to prevent Bonaparte from divorcing without the pope's consent.

But I could convince him to divorce you right now.

For a civil marriage, it's a formality.

Of course.

And tomorrow, we'll crown a divorced emperor.

You're a big dreamer.

What I dream of is to explain to your husband that

you, and you alone, have ruined his coronation.

And we'll see

if he thinks the imperial crown is worth less than your withered little pussy.

I survived the Terror in overcrowded prisons

where the only way to escape the guillotine was to get pregnant.

I've begged the guards to fuck me to survive

before I pierced my waters to have an abortion.

So if you think your little machinations…

Bravo, I love theater.

- Call a doctor! - Call a doctor right away!

Push.

Did you order them to kill my daughter?

They know what they're doing.

They're not doing anything.

- Honey, I'm taking you home right away. - No.

Louis, stop your nonsense.

Louis, come.

Gentlemen. Gentlemen.

Catherine, I don't want you here.

Keep quiet.

- What did she say? - That…

the baby is in a breech position.

He is sitting cross-legged with his feet close to his buttocks.

No one here has ever given a vagina the attention it deserves.

That if we let them continue…

Hortense will die, and so will the child.

- Does she think she can do better? - She brought my daughter into the world.

She'll deliver the children of all the women I care about

as long as she breathes.

Thank you.

Don't thank me yet.

Instead, bring in the women and send the gentlemen home.

Only priests may approach the altar.

I've come to pray for this poor young woman.

What about you?

I don't know.

Is it an offering? May I?

What did you expect in return?

Holy Father,

could you--

"Could Your Holiness…"

Could Your Holiness

hear my confession?

She tried to turn the baby. It didn't work.

We have to prepare for the worst.

Come on. Hurry up.

Now you have to make a choice.

It's either Hortense or the baby.

No.

No, no, no.

No, no!

No, no, no.

A mother would save her daughter.

An empress would save her heir.

- Save my daughter. - No.

No!

No!

My baby! My baby!

My baby! Save my baby!

My baby!

My baby!

Please, I beg you! My baby!

My baby…

Your Holiness.

If a man does evil…

am I not doing good if I eliminate him?

Christ says that we must do good for evil.

What if this man destroys everything he touches?

Including me?

Since I met him,

he hasn't stopped corrupting me.

Continue.

I have blood on my hands.

In spite of myself, I contributed to an attack.

I was complicit in the death of an innocent man.

I manipulated.

I lied.

I betrayed.

I've disappointed so many people.

Continue.

If I don't do anything,

am I not an accomplice to his next crimes?

His next crimes?

There will be more. For sure.

All the harm he does…

he says he does it for the good of France.

For the good of France…

You admire him?

He may be my father.

You're afraid you'll be like him.

If the pain is too strong, my son,

you could cut this link.

He's a powerful man.

Even powerful men fear divine wrath and punishment.

Sometimes even

the Lord, in his infinite wisdom,

chooses one of us to be the instrument of his vengeance.

Isn't murdering your father an irredeemable sin?

The Lord did sacrifice his only son.

Sometimes the greatest decisions require the greatest courage.

And if it is followed by sincere repentance…

the pope will have the power to absolve you.

Carême.

Thank you, Your Holiness.

My son…

the mighty are always on their guard,

except when they are at the height of their glory.

At that moment, they think they are invincible.

They're wrong.

Your potion.

We need your potion.

- The laudanum? - Yes.

I have nothing left.

Hortense needs it. She's suffering too much.

Bless my child.

Whatever happens.

Here.

It didn't have time to macerate.

I added opium for the same effect. I hope she pulls through.

Thank you.

For the pain.

She says you have hands fine enough to turn the baby around.

Agathe, you are our last hope to save mother and baby.

I've never done this before.

It's a boy.

And the mother?

She's fine.

You can go in now.

All is well that ends well.

I need to talk to you.

Leave us.

What's up?

I know that for you, this birth is a problem.

For me, it's an opportunity.

My cook who insists on giving me opinions on politics.

I'll never tire of it.

This birth…

it changes the situation.

Of course.

Right now, Bonaparte has only one heir.

And it's thanks to Joséphine.

So he's not ready to repudiate her.

Except if the real father of the heir is not Louis.

Oh? Really? And what's the difference?

Even if it was the pope, it would remain the heir.

It's your son, Charles, who impregnated Hortense.

Your blood will one day ascend the throne.

Not bad, right?

It should be enough to bury the hatchet with Joséphine.

You'd better have her crowned.

You're really desperate to cook for that coronation.

Yes.

And kill your worst enemy.

More than ever.

Your blessing saved us.

Or your pugnacity.

Would Your Holiness accept to celebrate the wedding of Madame and Bonaparte today?

As you can see, everything is ready for my departure.

I understood that I could not do without you.

Will you continue your maneuvers until your deathbed?

You reproached me for having sold the Church's assets during the Revolution.

And if France refunds you?

Would you try to corrupt me?

No. Never.

I'm just trying to repent.

Don't insist.

I'm sure my husband could repent too.

It's moving to see two souls who were torn apart yesterday

touched by the peace of Christ today.

It's proof that the birth of a child can change the world.

I have to admit, you're gorgeous.

Thank you.

I can't wait.

The ceremony will be unforgettable, the wedding night…

exciting.

Surprising that two women who never liked each other

share so many common points.

Two women who succeeded in a man's world.

In this chess game, our husbands think they're kings.

They forget that the queen is the centerpiece.

The most powerful piece.

Your father is asking for you.

We're going to celebrate the religious wedding of Joséphine and Bonaparte.

Is it good news?

Yes.

And it's a bit thanks to you, by the way.

Well, tell him what you told me.

You've lost your tongue.

Maybe it's a matter of conscience.

- You betrayed me? You piece of… - Shut up!

You're not worthy of your blood or your rank.

- Father… - What you have between your legs

could have cost us a lot.

My career.

My life. Our life.

Think about it.

Imagine what Joséphine would have done if she had found out,

and she will, for sure, one day or another.

What have I done to have a son like you who looks so little like me?

If only you knew how disappointing you are.

Deep down, you know I'm right.

What are you doing here?

Thank you.

I'm all right, thank you.

Thank you.

No.