The road to Pairs was long and treacherous, even more so for a young lady. Since my father had passed away I was on my way to live with my estranged uncle. The trees seemed to thin out singling I was leaving the forest behind. As I crested a small hill I could look down on all the glory that was Paris. This was to be my new home, the hustle and bustle apparent even from this distance. I was a long way from home to say the least. A hot bath would be most welcome to relieve the tension in my aching muscle. Looking at me know you might mistake me for a man at first. Scuffed boots covered my small feet; a maroon shit was tucked into my leather leggings followed by my jerkin. The coat my father gave me was covering my arms keeping the cool fall air from my skin. I had a hat pulled low on my head, hiding the feminine features of my face.
I think back to the last time I saw my uncle; it had been at my mother's funeral almost10 years ago. He was my mother's older brother and they had always been close. I remember him visiting our small little cottage often as a child. However after her death it seemed like it was too painful for him to visit. My mother was always so full of life; she had a soft feminine way about her. The thing I remember the most about her was the way she would sing whenever she was busy with everyday chores. Her soft brown hair pinned up with a few strands falling down to frame her face.
I got my looks from my father, dark curly brown hair that fell down my back. It was so thick it never stayed up; I always wore it in a braid over my shoulder. My mother had tried numerous times to pin it up like a lady but it always fell out from the weight of it. Father was a hard man; I never understood what drew my mother to him. He never spoke of his feelings, assuming we already new he loved us. He raised me to be a survivor. Teaching me to shoot a musket at a young age, he took fishing and me hunting. He had wanted a son to carry on the family name, however after many attempts to have a child he was happy when I was born. Mother once told me he had cried when told he had a daughter, smiling through the tears he had said I have a daughter. He never once looked down on me for my sex but taught me to always value myself.
My father was the greatest man I had ever known, and now that he was gone I felt lost. With no other living family my uncle had sent for me when news of my fathers death had reached him. I was unsure of my place in my uncle's life and could hardly remember what he looked like. I knew he was one of the Kings Musketeers. Mother had always been proud of that fact.
I heard musket fire off in the distance, the sound snapping me back to the present. Two men on horseback were fleeing and heading right towards me. My horse begin to get excited thinking that it was time to flee as well. Another shot rang out as one man fell lifelessly from his horse. His partner looked behind him at the four men charging forward on their own horses. One yelled out for the man to stop, identifying themselves as the king's musketeers. This spurred me into action the man was well within range, I dragged my musket out and yelled for the man to stop, raising the musket up taking aim.
Little did I know that this moment was going to change my life completely and I was in for one hell of a ride.