The Maze of Love is a meticulously documented true novel that chronicles the intricate diplomatic mission of Muhammad Reza Bey to France. This richly layered historical narrative picks up where the story of Al Jaria’h (“The Daring”), Marie-Claude Petit, came to an end —an ultimately unsuccessful endeavour, clouded by France’s reluctance to support Persian resistance against the rising tide of Omani influence in the Arabian Gulf.
Confronted with repeated disappointments in securing naval support from the English or the Dutch, the Persian authorities were compelled to reassess their diplomatic strategy. As the resurgence of Omani maritime power intensified across the Arabian Gulf, so too did the urgency to secure a dependable ally. Within this shifting geopolitical landscape, the Persian government resolved to dispatch a new envoy to the French court.
(1) Muhammad Reza Bey, the appointed envoy of the Shah of Persia to the French court
Determined to issue a measured yet unfavorable response to King Louis XIV and the Pope, Shah Sultan Hussein sought to use the return of Abbé Jean Richard—a French clergyman preparing to depart Persia in May 1713—as a conduit for this delicate communication. Recognizing the moment’s strategic value, the Shah entrusted Abbé Richard with a collection of diplomatic gifts intended for the French monarch, instructing him to deliver them upon arrival to Muhammad Khan, the governor of Erivan.
Alongside this gesture, the Shah dispatched explicit orders to Muhammad Khan, tasking him with the responsibility of identifying a suitable figure to represent Persia at the French court. Upon receiving the royal directive, Muhammad Khan first nominated a local cavalry commander for the mission—an individual of notable standing who, however, declined the appointment. Confronted with this refusal, Muhammad Khan turned to Muhammad Reza Bey, the mayor of Erivan and the third-ranking official in the city’s administrative hierarchy. Despite being fully aware of the journey’s length, uncertainty, and inherent dangers, Muhammad Reza Bey accepted the commission with quiet resolve. In March 1714, he departed discreetly from Erivan, setting out on a mission that would prove not only arduous but also diplomatically and historically consequential.
In preparation for his journey, Muhammad Reza Bey took great care to send the diplomatic gifts intended for King Louis XIV ahead of him, discreetly concealed within bales of silk. His caution stemmed from a well-founded fear of being denied passage through Ottoman territory should his true destination be revealed. The memory of the hardships endured by Jean-Baptiste Fabre and other envoys on Turkish soil remained vivid and cautionary.
There is little need to recount in detail the full extent of Muhammad Reza Bey’s trials in the Ottoman Empire. It is enough to note that, despite his meticulous precautions, he remained under constant suspicion. Eventually, Ottoman authorities arrested him and cast him into prison. To secure his release, he cleverly claimed to be a pilgrim en route to Mecca. Taking him at his word, the authorities placed him aboard a pilgrim vessel. Yet, undeterred and resourceful, Muhammad Reza Bey managed to escape and secured passage on a French ship departing from the port of Alexandretta. His crossing of Turkish territory, fraught with delays and dangers, lasted nearly six months.
Muhammad Reza Bey arrived in Marseille on the 23rd of October 1714, where he remained for two months before proceeding to Paris. His journey through France was characterized by capricious behaviour and unpredictable bursts of anger—emotions often triggered by the logistical setbacks and mishaps experienced by those assigned to receive and accompany him to the capital. Nevertheless, he succeeded in securing an exceptional ceremonial privilege: formal honours of entry into the principal cities along his route. This rare concession heightened public fascination with his mission, and when he finally entered Paris on the 7th of February 1715, he was met with widespread curiosity and a sense of spectacle.
(2) Muhammad Reza Bey at the Palace of Versailles
Upon arrival, his delegation proceeded to the Hôtel des Ambassadeurs, where he would reside during his brief stay in the city. After no more than ten days, a date was set for his formal reception at court. On the 19th of February 1715, King Louis XIV received the Persian envoy with full honours at the Palace of Versailles.
In a display of rare ceremonial grandeur, the ageing Louis XIV—then nearing the end of his long reign—emerged on his throne in the Hall of Mirrors (La Galerie des Glaces), a gesture he had not made in over forty-seven years.
Muhammad Reza Bey appeared suitably impressed by the majesty of the occasion, paying his formal respects before presenting his credentials to the king. A chest containing the Shah’s gifts was then ceremoniously placed before the monarch and opened. Yet, rather than admiration, the gesture gave rise to mild disappointment: the offerings, though diplomatically intended, were modest in nature and perceived as underwhelming by the lavish standards of the French court.
Nonetheless, the accompanying documentation proved decisive. A formal letter from Shah Sultan Hussein addressed to Louis XIV, a second letter from the governor of Yerevan to the Marquis de Torcy—then Minister of Foreign Affairs—and a certificate of authenticity from Abbé Jean Richard together confirmed the legitimacy and seriousness of the ambassador’s mission.
Despite the ceremonial success of Muhammad Reza Bey’s reception, the French authorities remained cautious and discreetly sought further clarity regarding the ambassador’s background. Marie Petit—by now familiar to elements within the French court—was questioned and affirmed that she had indeed known Muhammad Reza Bey during her time in Yerevan, confirming that he had held the position of mayor in the city. Within court circles, there was an air of confidence that negotiations with the envoy would not be protracted.
Following the formal audience on 19 February 1715, King Louis XIV appointed a high-level delegation to engage with the ambassador. The task was entrusted to three of the kingdom’s most senior officials: the Marquis de Torcy, Minister of Foreign Affairs; Pontchartrain, Minister of the Navy; and Nicolas Desmarets, Controller-General of Finances. The decision to involve figures of such stature served a dual purpose. First, it underscored the strategic importance Louis XIV assigned to the Persian mission. Second, it reflected a shared conviction among the ministers regarding the urgent need to secure new outlets for French overseas commerce—ideally at the expense of rival imperial powers.
(3) Muhammad Reza Bey’s Conflict of Heart and State
In May 1715, within the ornate confines of the Hôtel des Ambassadeurs where Muhammad Reza Bey resided, a seemingly informal yet telling episode took place. At a luncheon attended by Lady de Roussy and her daughter, Mademoiselle d'Épinay, along with court interpreters Messrs. Padery, Gudru, and Richard, the ambassador himself appeared. He joined the gathering unannounced, taking a seat beside the interpreter Padery and directly across from the young Mademoiselle d'Épinay. From the moment Muhammad Reza Bey set eyes on Miss d'Épinay, he found himself entranced—his gaze drawn irresistibly to her radiant face and poised elegance. Though seated among company, he began to speak as though addressing only her, and even as Padery translated his words, Reza Bey remained silent, his eyes fixed on the young woman with quiet intensity.
As his meals were ordered from outside the hotel—citing his strict adherence to halal dietary laws—he politely excused himself from the table that evening to retreat to the privacy of his room. Just as he was about to depart, however, he asked Padery to join him briefly at a separate table. Leaning in with measured curiosity, he asked quietly, “That girl… who is she?”
Padery replied with a knowing smile: “She is d’Épinay, the daughter of Madame de Roussy. Seventeen years old, strikingly beautiful, and raised amidst the refined circles of Parisian society. She is Christian, modest, and not known for flirtation or impropriety.”
Padery approached Muhammad Reza Bey with a message of urgency: “His Majesty the King has instructed the French ministers to conclude negotiations swiftly and secure your signature on the agreement.”
To this, Muhammad Reza Bey responded: “How am I to sign an agreement written entirely in French? It must be translated into Persian, so I may fully understand its contents.”
Padery took the document for translation, while Reza Bey turned his attention elsewhere. Eager to see Miss d’Épinay again, he arranged an evening meeting. Having picked up a few French phrases, he extended a polite invitation to Madame de Roussy and her daughter to visit his private chambers. There, in the quiet elegance of the Hotel des Ambassadeurs, he received his meals and spent long hours in conversation with Miss d’Épinay. Bit by bit, her initial reserve gave way to his charm, and she remained in his company until midnight—sometimes even as late as two in the morning.
During the day, the young Miss d'Épinay and her mother, Madame de Roussy, would quietly remove their shoes and place them at the edge of “the carpet.” They then seated themselves gracefully on floor cushions at the rear of Muhammad Reza Bey’s chamber, in a manner reminiscent of the traditional courtly customs of Persian harems.
There was no sense of impropriety or embarrassment in their demeanor. On the contrary, they appeared entirely at ease, even theatrical at times—performing, knowingly or not, for the steady stream of guests who came to pay their respects to the Persian envoy.
By eight o’clock in the evening, the doors of the ambassador’s residence would close, and the outer world would fade into silence.
The negotiations stretched over two long months, marked by Muhammad Reza Bey’s persistent objections to nearly every clause of the proposed agreement. During this prolonged diplomatic stalemate, the entanglement between the ambassador and Miss d'Épinay deepened—her emotional captivity extending in parallel with his political one.
Amidst these romantic interludes, the true objective of Muhammad Reza Bey’s mission—the prospect of a strategic alliance against Muscat—was never openly discussed.
According to Padery, a staunch advocate of the so-called “Muscat project,” a verbal arrangement had been made: a French naval commander, Geraldin, would be dispatched to Isfahan, not only to seek the Shah’s formal approval of the treaty, but also to assess the country's capacity to host and support such an alliance.
Geraldin’s journey was to be preceded by Padery himself, who would travel with Muhammad Reza Bey to make the necessary diplomatic and logistical preparations.
On the thirteenth of August 1715, the treaty was formally signed at the Palace of Versailles. Following the signing, Muhammad Reza Bey took his leave of King Louis XIV.
On the twenty-second of August 1715, royal orders were issued granting Ambassador Muhammad Reza Bey formal permission to commence his return journey. The directives extended to provincial governors, deputies, and administrative officials, instructing them to accord the ambassador the full honours of diplomatic protocol. Moreover, they were to ensure that all necessary transportation—from the French capital to the port of Le Havre—was arranged at the expense of the Crown, thereby facilitating his dignified passage back to Persia.
(4) The Box of Religious Books
On the 30th of August 1715, Muhammad Rida Bey departed Paris, embarking on the journey to the port of Le Havre by river. Three vessels had been arranged for the expedition: one for the ambassador himself, a second for his retinue, and a third exclusively for his luggage—which notably included a sealed box of religious books.
In the early hours of the following day, 31 August 1715, Madame de Rossi arrived in great distress at the residence of Monsieur Padery, the official interpreter to His Majesty King Louis XIV. Visibly shaken, she recounted a troubling episode that had occurred the previous night involving her daughter, d’Épinay.
Padery, compelled by the gravity of the situation, composed an urgent letter to the King. It read:
Paris, 31 August 1715
“My Lord,
This morning, Madame de Rossi came to me in a state of anguish. She had written to me the evening prior, but her visit today conveyed the full weight of her alarm. She informed me that the Persian ambassador had abducted her daughter. The young lady, she claimed, left their residence under cover of darkness and without so much as a change of clothes.
Madame de Rossi insists her daughter is of devout character and moral upbringing, incapable of yielding herself to a Muslim. She believes the ambassador disguised his religious identity, presenting himself as a Christian with the intention of marrying the girl. According to her, he even underwent a clandestine baptism performed by an Armenian priest whom she herself had summoned.
Nevertheless, Madame de Rossi assured me that she would take every possible step to ensure that she would not follow them. She firmly believed that her daughter would sooner retire to a convent than surrender herself to the conduct of this foreigner—whose volatile nature and intemperate disposition she now fully understood.
In light of these circumstances—and based on the troubling inconsistencies and apparent falsehoods reported to me—I considered it my duty to advise that Your Majesty instruct Monsieur Roujault, the General Inspector at Rouen, to intercept and detain the mother and daughter should they be located.
I remain, with the utmost respect, Your Majesty’s most humble and obedient servant.
Following this, a royal directive was swiftly issued from King Louis XIV to Monsieur Padery, his trusted interpreter, ordering that Miss d’Épinay be apprehended and placed in a secure and appropriate location until further instructions could be given.
Meanwhile, on the 30th of August, Muhammad Riza Bey had already commenced his journey northward. He arrived in the city of Rouen on the evening of 2 September, where he took up temporary residence. Among his belongings was the now-famous box of religious texts, and he was accompanied by several French ministers who had travelled to offer their formal farewells.
However, the emissaries dispatched to locate Miss d’Épinay never reached Rouen. Their mission faltered! All attention in the capital had suddenly turned to a moment of national upheaval: the death of King Louis XIV.
The ministers and officials who had gathered in Rouen promptly returned to Paris, overtaken by the gravity of the King's passing. Amid this turning point in French history, Muhammad Riza Bey was left in quiet solitude, his time occupied with the study of religious manuscripts and gentle conversation with the remaining French escorts. It was in these contemplative moments, surrounded by his books and in dialogue with French dignitaries, that word came that the time had arrived to proceed to the port of Le Havre. The captain of the ship bound for St. Petersburg—mindful of the advancing season—was eager to set sail.
The season of tempests loomed near, and every hour became precious.
On the twelfth of September 1715, the Persian delegation—along with their French escorts—embarked directly aboard the Astrée, which would carry them to St. Petersburg without pausing at Le Havre.
Muhammad Reza Bey, the Persian ambassador, carefully placed his most treasured possession—a large wooden box said to contain sacred religious texts—in his private cabin aboard the ship.
As the Astrée advanced into northern waters, a violent storm erupted. Waves crashed over the deck, and amidst the chaos, Muhammad Reza Bey was thrown to the floor, his ceremonial turban rolling away. Sailors rushed to his aid. In the confusion, a sharp cry pierced the roar of the wind—a human cry, not of the sea. The sound had come from the ambassador's cabin.
The sailors, alarmed and compelled by duty, stormed below deck. There, they discovered the box of "religious books" had overturned. From it, faint sounds of moaning could be heard. With great effort, they hauled the box out into the open. Just as they began to force the lid open, Muhammad Reza Bey emerged, stricken, urgently trying to stop them.
But it was too late.
The box creaked open—and there, folded in on herself, was a young woman: Miss d’Épinay, the ambassador’s clandestine companion.
Gasps echoed through the ship. Word travelled swiftly, and soon reached Monsieur Padery —the king’s interpreter, recently appointed as French consul to Shiraz—who had boarded the Astrée. His face hardened with disbelief and disapproval. Standing before the stunned assembly, he turned to Muhammad Reza Bey and declared, with quiet finality:
“This is the end of our association. I will not accompany you on this journey.”
It was soon revealed that, before departing from Chaillot, Muhammad Reza Bey had secretly commissioned a custom-built chest—ventilated with concealed breathing holes and outfitted with a mattress and pillow. With the assistance of the chief protocol officer and four Persian attendants, he had hidden Miss d’Épinay inside and sealed the chest, passing it off as a container of holy books.
When the Astrée made port in Copenhagen, the scandal had caused enough upheaval that the traveling party quietly disbanded. In the hush that followed the storm, Muhammad Reza Bey and his companion slipped away—bound once more for Persia.
(5) The Return of Mohammad Reza Bey and His Lover to Persia
After a journey spanning twenty-one months, marked by diplomacy, scandal, and personal intrigue, Muhammad Reza Bey returned to Persia in May of 1717. His path back to Isfahan, however, was not a triumphant one.
Upon arrival, he discovered that his former patron, Muhammad Khan—governor of Yerevan—had been dismissed from office. In his place stood one of the nephews of Fath Ali Khan Daghestani, the powerful Iʿtimād al-Dawlah. This sudden shift in political power left Muhammad Reza Bey vulnerable and exposed.
He was acutely aware that he had gravely overstepped his authority during the French mission, far beyond the powers granted to him. Furthermore, his prolonged absence and questionable conduct had stirred suspicions. Burdened with this knowledge, he dared not return to the capital.
Instead, he diverted his route toward his hometown of Yerevan, arriving there by the end of May 1717. His return was overshadowed by further ignominy: to finance the final leg of his journey, he had resorted to selling some of the valuable gifts intended for the Shah—lavish offerings from King Louis XIV. This sacrilegious act, in the eyes of courtly tradition, deepened the dishonour he carried.
Haunted by disgrace and anticipating inevitable retribution, Muhammad Reza Bey took his own life by poison merely three weeks after arriving in Yerevan—choosing death over the shame of a public reckoning.
As for Miss d’Épinay —his lover and the woman at the center of so much controversy—she remained in Persia. Following the ambassador’s death, she embraced Islam, adopting a new life and identity in a foreign land. It is said she married Muhammad Reza Bey’s brother. She had carried what remained of the royal gifts to the Persian court, fulfilling a portion of the mission her late companion had begun but could not complete.