Thank you for being patient with me, it's been a while! This story is based around a true conflict and inspired by the history of it, however, I can't pretend to be an expert on the subject. There will be historical inaccuracies but hopefully it will make a good story in the end.
If you are interested in the conflict at the centre of this story and want to know more about it, I recommend Kate Mosse's The Burning Chambers. It got me interested in the history and ultimately inspired this!
The sounds of children playing drifted through the rooms of the house that Constance now shared with her little family. It was a gorgeous space –a place that she had never dreamed of owning, but there were certain benefits to being married to the joint commander of the Musketeers. Her new home was situated on one of the most exclusive streets in Paris, within view of the Palais Royal and less than a five-minute walk to the Louvre, which was convenient for Constance; now she didn't have to wait for a carriage to go and she her friend. The house itself was airy, with high windows and a balcony looking out into the bustling street and, as she usually was in the mornings nowadays, Constance could be found drinking tea with Elodie and Sylvie in the living room while their children's babbling voices could be heard from the nursery down the corridor.
Constance's life had changed dramatically since she had given birth to Joséphine. The move out of the garrison had been a big upheaval, but she liked it. Now she spent her mornings at home with her daughter and her friends, and in the afternoon she would leave Joséphine with their handmaid Carmela, while she went about her business, whether that be working at the garrison, assisting the Queen, or going out into town to shop for her and d'Artagnan. Constance was happy.
"We've had an unexpectedly high number of applicants from the merchants of Le Marais," Sylvie was saying as she sipped her tea. "Myself and Athos went to speak with them last week to try and convince them to let their children apply for the school. It took a while to convince them and some of the merchants were not happy with the idea that their daughters would be educated alongside boys, but I think we got through to them."
"How many students do you have in Paris now?" Elodie asked.
"Twenty-three at the moment. Sixty-eight are currently being schooled in Athos' home in the country. I plan to go back a few times a year to check up on things, but I still get letters twice a week updating me on everything."
"Twenty-three though!" breathed Constance. "That's a large number for that small building, are you sure you don't want me to speak to the Queen? She might be able to find you something bigger – that way you could take on more students."
Sylvie shook her head. "I can't take anymore from her, she's already helped so much! Now that Athos and I have got his lands producing again we can almost fund everything ourselves. Besides, we don't even have the teachers to take on more students at the moment, the space is the least of our worries."
Constance smiled. "You're helping these children so much, Sylvie. Even if you only educated one of them you'd have done something to be proud of."
Any reply Sylvie may have had was immediately drowned out by a squealing Marie-Cessette, who had come bounding into the room while Carmela chased after her, reaching for the child before she could crash into the serving table or any of the other pieces of delicate furniture that Constance and d'Artagnan had decorated their new home with. Carmela managed to hoist Marie-Cessette into her arms a second before she would have collided with them. She put the squirming two-year-old on her hip and quickly gave Constance a little curtsey.
"Apologies, Madam d'Artagnan, Comtesse de la Fère, Madame du Vallon," she said, breathless. "I was tending to the babies and she slipped out of my sight. I hope you have not been disturbed."
Constance shook her head. Carmela was a young girl, only seventeen, and she'd arrived in Paris all the way from Italy looking for a job. She worked hard and Constance was always kind and gave her plenty of time to herself, yet she still seemed terrified of upsetting her or d'Artagnan. It was Constance's opinion that the girl was aware of how good a position she had found herself with them and she did not want to lose it.
"There is nothing to apologise for, Carmela," Elodie said gently, standing and taking her daughter from her. "When Marie-Cessette wants to do something, it would take an army to stop her!" Elodie nuzzled her face against the toddlers and they both laughed. "Anyway, your timing could not have been better as we must be going."
"So should I," Sylvie said. "Lots to do, and I'm sure you've got something occupying your afternoon, Constance?"
"Haven't I always?" Constance laughed in reply as Carmela turned back to the nursery to get Isaac ready for the trip home with Sylvie.
By the time Constance arrived at the garrison Elodie and Sylvie had gone home. The sounds of swords clashing could be heard as she entered through the arch way and she was greeted by the sight of d'Artagnan and Porthos duelling playfully with each other while Athos sat at the bench watching them, eating an apple lazily.
"You're going to have to do better than that, Captain!" said Porthos, as he parried as sword stoke. D'Artagnan laughed as he stepped in close and snuck a leg behind Porthos. A second later, Porthos was in the dirt.
"And you're going to have to keep up, old man," said d'Artagnan, reaching down to help his friend up.
Constance, who had sat herself down by Athos to watch the performance, gave them both a polite clap. D'Artagnan turned and a grin spread across his face as the sight of her. He came over, kissed her cheek, and poured himself a drink.
"Good afternoon," he said, sitting next to her. "How is Joséphine?"
"She's perfect," Constance said, "Carmela is with her now." D'Artagnan nodded. She turned to Athos and Porthos. "Sylvie and Elodie have gone home with the children. Athos, she was telling me that you've got students coming from La Marais, that's wonderful news!"
The four of them chatted for a few minutes until their conversation was interrupted by a clatter of hooves; a young palace guard came flying into the yard. Porthos stood, his hand immediately on his sword hilt.
"What is it?" He said.
The guard didn't even bother to dismount, he simply turned his horse around ready to set off out of the garrison again.
"Her Majesty, the Queen Regent has requested you visit her as soon as you are able," he said, out of breath.
"An emergency?" asked Athos.
"She did not say, my lord, she only asked that you come at once."
They all looked at one another then jumped into action.
"Durand!" d'Artagnan shouted across the yard. "Horses, now!"
Within minutes the four of them were riding through the streets of Paris, Constance sat behind d'Artagnan, Athos and Porthos behind them on their own horses. Constance damned herself in her mind for dressing as a respectable lady of high society, she could have ridden herself otherwise. They clattered into the courtyard of the Louvre and slid to the ground. Palace guards recognised them and didn't stop them, instead they swung the doors open for them and pointed them in the right direction.
"What does she need us for?" Porthos said, taking the stairs two at a time.
"No idea," said Constance, out of breath and holding up her skirts as she jogged to keep up. They slowed as they approached the door to the throne room. Athos knocked on the heavy, gilded doors and they were let in.
Stood in the centre of the room was the Queen, dressed in her day wear but still the most splendid thing in the room. Her gown was gold and blue and a delicate diamond crucifix glittered at the base of her throat. She turned to them at their entranced and gave a small smile.
Constance sank into a curtsey as d'Artagnan, Athos, and Porthos bowed. When she straightened up she noticed the others in the room.
Aramis was stood at the Queen's elbow and next to him, Cardinal Mazarin, Richelieu's successor. He was a small Italian man, with a long thin nose and a beard that made his face look even longer and thinner. Constance hadn't had much to do with him but, so far, he had not done anything to cause anyone genuine upset. Across form the three of them was another man – dressed in fine clothes but with the slightly dishevelled look of someone who had been travelling for days.
"Ah, Musketeers," Anne said. "Thank you for getting here so quickly. As you can see, we are joined by Monsieur Sebille." She gestured politely to the gentleman Constance had not recognised. "He has brought some startling claims that I feel may require musketeer intervention. Please, Monsieur, continue."
Constance moved to stand behind d'Artagnan, Porthos, and Athos so they could be the direct recipients of the man's story. She knew everyone who was a friend in the room valued her input, but strangers sometimes took offence at being expected to talk to a woman as they would a soldier.
"As I was saying," Sebille began. "I have travelled from the town of La Roche-sur-yon. I, as a respected member of the Catholic community there have been chosen to come to you, your Highness, to beg your assistance."
"In what capacity, sir?" asked Aramis.
"Myself and other prominent members of respectable society in neighbouring towns, are becoming more and more concerned with the Huguenot issue." Sebille continued. At his words Cardinal Mazarin became visibly ruffled and he huffed his displeasure.
"I see," said Anne, completely ignoring Mazarin's reaction.
"I understand they are protected by the Edict but the situations is becoming tense. We have had Godly men killed by Huguenots, riots in streets, men and women feel compelled to hide their rosaries and will not walk in certain parts of the town after nightfall. They are also refusing to support the war effort; they are actively discouraging their young men from joining your armies as they claim they cannot support France when France does not support them. This is a problem across many towns in the West, your Highness, and we feel we cannot act without violating the Edict, yet we need to be able to defend ourselves. I, on behalf of the loyal Catholic community in the West, ask that you send military power to help deal with the disturbances and, even though I am aware of how big an ask this is, that you consider re-evaluating, or possibly revoking, the Edict of Nantes."
Constance glanced at d'Artagnan. His eyebrows were knitted together as he watched Sebille speak, obviously he was not wholly convinced by what he was hearing. However, to Constance's surprise, when her eyes fell on Aramis, she could see concern and genuine sympathy for the man speaking.
"Thank you for bringing your concerns to me, Monsieur Sebille," Anne said. "I understand that you have travelled a long way and must be weary. Allow me to have someone show you to your room for the night, as a gesture of the King's gratitude for your loyalty." She waved a servant, who had been stood by the door, forward. "I must converse with my advisors and the King before I can give you my answer, but I promise you we will speak again by the end of the day."
Sebille nodded his thanks, turned, and left with the servant out the doors Constance and the others had entered through.
"So," sighed Anne as the door closed. "What do you think?" she turned first to Aramis.
"Well," he said, his hand nervously going to his beard. "Something obviously needs to be done. I personally agree that the Huguenots have been left to overstep the mark for too long and we need to reign any insurgency back in."
"I agree, First Minister," said the Cardinal. His voice made Constance's skin crawl. It was simpering and drawling and he leered at Aramis and Anne when he spoke. "For too long these people have been allowed to openly defy both God and the King and it should continue no more. I for one, your Highness, do not believe Sebille is asking too much that the Edict be revoked. It has quite apparently caused the Huguenot's to become overly entitled."
"I'm sorry," said Constance, finally stepping forward. "The Edict? Please, can someone remind me?" But before anyone could come to her aid, Mazarin scoffed.
"Who is this idiot woman? Did she follow one of you Musketeers in?" he turned to Anne and fixed the sugary expression back on his face. "My apologies, your Highness, shall I have her removed?"
Constance did not get angry, instead she rolled her eyes and, next to her, she heard d'Artagnan begin to laugh. Now she had definitely made up her mind – she did not like this man.
"Madame d'Artagnan is here by my invitation," Anne said in a clipped tone. "I value her opinion as, not only is she an intelligent woman of flawless judgment, she also ran the Musketeer garrison through the first four years of the war and has saved my life more than once. I will not hear a word against her."
Constance flushed almost as brightly as Mazarin at these words, only while his blushes were from embarrassment, hers were from being spoken of so highly by the Queen. She felt d'Artagnan's arm slip around her and a reassuring squeeze on her shoulder and she smiled.
Porthos cleared his throat.
"The Edict of Nantes, Constance," he said. "Was signed by King Henry and basically allows Huguenots – or Protestants – the freedom to worship and be French citizens free from persecution or punishment for their beliefs. It did a pretty good job of stopping the religious wars that were being fought before it was enacted." He turned to look at the Cardinal. "And, while I cannot call myself a religiously educated man, it is for that reason that I am against the revoking or re-evaluating of the Edict. These people are French, and we cannot meddle with their rights."
Constance nodded her agreement but did not say anything. This was not a topic she was well versed in, but Porthos seemed to be talking sense.
"I agree that the Edict cannot be revoked, Porthos," said Aramis, choosing his words carefully. "But I am afraid I will have to disagree with you my friend; something has to be done. As Sebille said, this is a problem all through the Western towns and people have died. I appreciate that these people should not be persecuted, but they should also not be allowed to openly defy the King."
"Do we know how much of the violence has been unprovoked?" Athos said evenly. "Or if any of it was in retaliation to something?"
"I must say," d'Artagnan added. "I do find it difficult to believe that there had been only wrong doing on the Huguenot side and the Catholics are completely innocent."
"How dare you, Captain!" spat Mazarin. "How dare you suggest that the Catholic church had committed wrong doing! It has and always will act for the benefit of France."
"Cardinal, I suggest you hold your tongue," Anne said, her voice like ice. "This is a volatile topic, but we must get to a solution without fighting like children." She waited for the Cardinal to calm down as he had become visibly agitated for the second time. Constance felt uncomfortable; d'Artagnan had a grim expression on his face, as did Athos. Pothos and Aramis were staring at each other, both seemingly set in their resolve.
"So," continued Anne. "After listening to your opinions, I agree that the Edict should not be revoked, however, I feel that some measures should be put in place as a starting point. This is not an isolated incident and I have been hearing reports from other areas in the West. Aramis," she turned to him. "I would like you to take care of a penal tax on Huguenot places of worship in the affected areas and directing French military units nearby to increase their presence in the towns that have suffered as a result of the discourse. Make it clear that these measures are as a result of the violence from the Huguenots. As for refusing to be supportive of the war, I will not enforce direct action yet, but I want it known that it is not out of the question if they remain in open defiance."
She nodded her goodbye to them and they all bowed respectfully as she turned and left the room, Mazarin scuttling after her.
Aramis blew out a breath once they were alone and ran his hand through his hair. "That was never going to be easy," he said, looking mainly at Porthos.
"Easy?" said Porthos. "What is being done is not right, Aramis, and you know it."
"Know it?" Aramis said sharply. "I do not 'know it,' Porthos, in fact, I believe this is the best course of action. A lot worse could be done instead."
Porthos threw his hands up in frustration. "I apologise if I am not thrilled that we are only violating a few rights of French citizens instead of more! I will do my job if I am called upon, but don't expect me to be happy about this."
d'Artagnan had not said a word throughout this entire exchange, but Constance could tell how he was feeling by the look on his face – he was torn. Constance, however, knew exactly where she stood.
"Porthos," she said gently. "I agree with you." She shot Aramis and apologetic glance but continued. "It seems to me that we cannot solve this problem by simply supressing and punishing one side of the argument. Surely there must be a solution that can be reached though diplomacy? And I too find it hard to believe that this is entirely one sided, what we need is a discussion on both sides."
"Constance," d'Artagnan said, softly, almost as if he was talking to her alone. "It's not that simple. I cannot say that I am happy with the decision that has been made but that is the Queen's decision, and truly, I struggle to see any other realistic option."
Constance narrowed her eyes and held his gaze. He was right, of course, but she could not make the decision sit right in her heart.
There was a heavy silence that followed, and Constance felt in the air the realisation that they all disagreed but could do nothing about it so arguing was pointless.
"I must go," Aramis said with a note of shame in his voice. "I have work to do."
Porthos reached out to his friend and hugged him and with that, the tension between them disappeared.
"Do what you have to do, Aramis," he said flatly. Aramis smiled and he too left the room the same way Anne had.
"Well," said Athos, after a moment of silence. "I guess that means we aren't needed here anymore."
"It seems that way," Constance said.