Iris was beginning to think Elaine would never show up. Her plan had to be carried out soon, or the chance would be lost. She would be stuck here forever.
Glancing around her room, her prison cell, she felt sure of her decision. She was risking everything, but was it really that bad when she barely had anything to begin with.
Iris froze when the sound of footsteps echoed through the hall. She rushed to the door and saw a flickering light come closer. When the lock clicked, Iris watched Elaine slip inside and close the door as quietly as possible.
"Did it work?"
"He went out like a light in a matter of seconds."
Iris felt a wave of relief wash over her. She gripped the other woman's hands tightly.
"This is really happening. I cant thank you enough," she whispered enthusiastically.
"Are you sure this is what you want?" Elaine pleaded, worry radiating from her face. "Where will you go? What if they find you?"
"Elaine, he has begun to speak of marriage. If I don't go now, I will never get to leave this place."
Sighing in defeat, Elaine turned to the door again.
"Then we must be quick."
Iris picked up her travelling cloak, and touched the bracelet on her wrist to make sure it was still with her.
I'm getting away mother. I really am, she thought and closed the door behind her without a second glance. If I never see that room again, it will be too soon.
They crept through the halls with extreme care, not daring to make any noise. Iris wasn't sure what time it was, but hoped everyone had gone to bed. There would be no goodbyes. Perhaps it was better that way.
Upon entering the kitchen, Elaine rushed to the back door and gave it a little push. When it opened, she turned back to Iris.
"This is it then."
Iris felt as though she should say something, but words didn't seem enough. Instead she threw her arms around the woman who had taken care of her since her mothers death, and held her close.
"I'll never see you again," she whispered, only now realising the truth of the words. She would – could – never return.
"I hope not," Elaine chuckled in return. Her voice was strained, and Iris suspected the woman had started crying. Pulling slightly back from the embrace, the two women looked at each other.
"You could die out there."
"Then I will die as a free woman."
Elaine sniffed quietly and reached out a hand to touch the bracelet that hung from Iris' wrist.
"You look more and more like your mother every day."
Iris shifted her weight from one foot to another, not meeting Elaine's eyes.
"Would she think me a coward for running away?"
The older woman smiled.
"She would think you a coward if you never tried," she assured the young girl and finally stepped away. Iris took a deep breath and turned to put a hand on the door.
"Elaine," she whispered, looking over her shoulder. "Will you be punished for this?"
Elaine had wrapped her arms around herself. Tears still flowed from her eyes.
"It will be worth it if I know you're out there, somewhere, living the life you want to live."
Iris felt herself smile, and then walked over the threshold. Elaine watched her quickly disappear into the shadows of the night, and sent out a silent prayer that their actions wouldn't be in vain.
"Godspeed, Iris," she mumbled and fastened the bolts on the door.
Iris was thankful for her impeccable sense of direction. She had spent a great deal of her childhood running through the forests and fields belonging to the mansion, and could navigate it now in the complete darkness of the night with no problems.
Reminding herself that she was far from being safe, Iris felt as though she was walking on air. For years she had dreamed of one day escaping that wretched place. Though she had lived there her entire life, it had never actually been a home to her. At least, not since her mother died.
Iris had never known her father. From what she knew, he worked as a in-house blacksmith at the mansion, but had died in an accident just after she was born. Her mother, who had worked as a maid, had grown ill when Iris was about 10, and died shortly after. Elaine had been the one to take care of her thereafter. The owner of the mansion, comte Demont, had insisted that she should be moved into a room in the cellar – her prison, where he could keep an eye on her. She had worked as a maid herself, just like her mother before her.
She had always known the comte had treated her differently, and only in the past years had she truly understood just how much. Her mother had been beautiful, and it was clear to everyone who had known her that Iris would be beautiful as well. The comte knew this too. He liked to present her to his acquaintances, but would send her away the moment they showed any hint of interest. It had always been like this. When she had turned 15, Iris began to understand how he never meant to let her out of his sight. He had watched her grow up and turn into a young woman. Now, only a few weeks away from her 18th birthday, she had heard him utter the words she had dreaded for so long. Marriage. Why he had waited this long she never knew, but she didn't care to wait around for an answer. It had been the last push she needed to get away, once and for all.
There was nowhere to go. She had no other family that she knew of, and she had never been allowed any friends other than the servants of the household.
The comte had allowed Elaine to teach her how to read and write, and she had spent hours looking at detailed maps of world. Having never set foot outside of the grounds, she could only imagine how it would be like to be free to see the world. Now, perhaps, she could.
She couldn't show herself in the village nearby. Not that anyone would recognise her, but they would surely search for her there first. With Elaine's help, she had slipped something into the comte's night-time tea. Hopefully it would keep him asleep well into the morning before he would realise she was gone. Elaine had suggested that she would be safer in places with more people – she would need a crowd she could blend in with. Iris knew Paris lay only a few hours away from the mansion, but she had no idea where she would go or what to do there. The only thing of value she had brought with her was the bracelet that had been her mothers, and she wasn't just about to leave it out of her sight.
Hoping she would be able to figure something out when daylight arrived again, she set one foot in front of another, determined to just get as much distance between herself and the mansion as possible.
Her determination did indeed keep her going, but after several hours she felt ready to pass out. She hadn't dared to take any breaks, and the past couple of days she had been awake at night to gather enough courage to go through with her escape. There had been no time to bring food either. It had started to rain some time ago, and by now she was soaking wet. It hadn't mattered to her that the weather had been uncharacteristically cold for September, but now she regretted not bringing a warmer cloak.
Iris heard the sound of a horse when the first touches of colour hit the sky. She stopped dead on the road she had been following and listened. It came nearer. She was filled with dread, and let out an involuntary gasp.
It cant be, not yet, she thought and fuelled by her fear she started running.
Looking over her shoulder, she could now see the rider and his horse, coming closer. There was no way she could possibly outrun a horse, so she did the only thing that made sense – taking a sharp turn and run directly into the woods next to the road. She had barely passed the first tree-line when her foot caught on a branch and she fell face first onto the ground. Twisting around, she desperately tried to free herself but it was too late. The rider had left his horse and walked towards her.
He wasn't old, but not young either. His dark hair and moustache was not yet tinged with grey. Though the sun had started to rise, it was still dark, but she saw him clearly and recognised the way he held himself. A soldier. She had met soldiers when they passed through the mansion, and had even tended to a few wounded men.
This particular man had been a soldier for a long while. Layers of pain and war were lined in his face.
"Please don't take me back," she begged, struggling to get away despite still being stuck. He knelt down next to her, and she was shocked to suddenly see kindness in his eyes. Such kindness didn't seem to belong on the face of a warrior.
"Easy now, I'm not going to hurt you," he promised. Iris swallowed hardly. He reached down and untangled the branch from her boot in a swift motion. She watched him throw it aside and reach out a hand towards her.
"Let me help you up."
She waited a few seconds before accepting his hand. Standing again she realised how much she was shivering. Of the fear of being followed or simply the cold she didn't know. He watched her as she tried to brush some dirt off her dress, then gave up as it was already dirty and soaked from travelling.
"What are you doing out here at this time of night?" he asked, frowning. Iris fidgeted uncomfortably. You wouldn't believe me if I told you, she thought.
"I was just... I was on my way to..." Iris began, her teeth clattering.
"You're running away," he said giving her a knowing look. "Don't try to deny it – I wasn't born yesterday."
She sniffed and wrapped her arms around herself.
"You look like you might be getting a cold. I'm sure your family -"
"I have no family," she cut him off. He sighed.
"A husband then?"
"Do I look like I'm married?"
He looked her over and then shook his head.
"Are you per any chance running because you've done something illegal?"
Iris frowned.
"Of course not. I'm just... running."
The man pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked tired, and she found herself wondering how long he had been travelling himself. After glancing towards his horse he seemed to make a decision.
"I'm on my way back to Paris. If you're running that way, it would be my pleasure to give you a lift."
Iris wondered for a moment if it was wise. On one hand, she needed to go somewhere and Paris was likely as good a place as any. On the other hand, she knew well enough not to blindly trust strangers. But there was something she couldn't quite explain that made her feel safe. What did she have to loose?
"That would be very kind of you," she replied and followed him back to the road.
He went to his horse, which he had quickly tied to a tree. Iris didn't know much about horses, but this seemed like one that was well tended to. She carefully stepped closer.
"You're not afraid of horses, are you?" he asked. She shook her head and ran her fingers over it's muzzle.
"I've never had much chance to be around them, that's all," she admitted.
He helped her onto the horse, and then stopped dead in his tracks.
"I haven't even introduced myself. I'm Treville, captain of the kings musketeers."
Iris felt a jolt go through her. A musketeer. The captain, no less. Her mother had told her stories of them, of how they fought for king and country, and valued honour above everything else. Feeling safer than she had a moment ago, she finally smiled.
"I'm Iris. Iris Chevalier."