I enter my quarters and a wave of misery hits me yet again. For once more, I'm alone in the small and depressed space I call home; the only sounds giving me some sense of company being those originating from outside. Merchants loading off as the night has well fallen upon the city; men returning home to meet the comforting presence of their families. Something truly worthy to return to. Something I could only dream of.
I walk inside into the tiny room where my few belongings lay, my bed and a plain table. The state of the room is undeniably horrific; empty bottles of wine being the only appalling decoration. If anyone saw any of this, he would most certainly assume I'm a man who has given up on life, lonely as I am. Perhaps I have after all.
A small noise disturbs my miserable thoughts. I turn my gaze to the end of the petty hallway leading to the door and feel a pair of eyes piercing me. I cannot make out the figure through the vast darkness which was disrupted only by the soft burn of a candle on the wooden table.
"Show yourself." I demand strictly, with a tone that should make any unwanted guests think twice about their visit here. I motion to grab my sword that's still hanging on my loosened belt but stop at the sight of a petite silhouette emerging from the shadows.
"I'm deeply sorry for the intrusion." I can't see her face completely but the few features I can make out are enough to recognize her. Her exquisite nut brown eyes and the few tresses of wild curly hair appearing from below her cape are most definitely familiar to me.
I throw down my sword. "Rosette." I speak her name, inviting her to feel free around me.
"Am I bothering?" her voice is silky just like I remember it; sweet and melodic. Yet, it sounds weak and cracking.
She takes a couple of hesitant steps towards me. "No worries. Nothing to disturb." I point around the empty room. "I must say your presence here surprises me. Last time I heard you were in Venice. To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?" I ask and smirk. I haven't received a letter from her for quite a while now. I had supposed she had finally found someone worthy of her out of the vast number of men that have fallen for her winsome beauty and captivating disposition. But if there such a man by her side, she wouldn't be here. And most certainly not alone.
"I thought you would have been glad to see me." she giggles and approaches me a little more.
"Oh believe me, I am. I can see you're still as skilled as ever. Always so sneaky and silent. I barely realized you were even here." I show her the chair, inviting her to take a seat across me.
"I shall receive this as a compliment." she grins before turning serious again. "I am so sorry for visiting you here in your private quarters, but I fear my face cannot be seen anywhere in the city. Therefore, I trust you with keeping my presence in Paris a secret."
"May I ask why all the secrecy? You have never been one to make enemies. Like Treville used to say, you would make the finest of diplomats. What has changed now?" I let my lips form a tiny squirk of suspicion.
"Noone is aware of my arrival and if you wish for me to continue breathing, it should probably remain this way. The reason I came to Paris is a very delicate matter that I can only discuss with you, my dear Athos." she regains her posture as she seats herself and takes off her cape, allowing me to admire the full depth of her beauty. Her familiar strawberry blonde curly hair is down and perfectly waved in back, but it s caught in a pearl and bead net. She has always had this incredible talent to balance elegance and simplicity in the smallest of ways. God, I haven't seen her in person in so long I almost forgot how heavenly she looks.
Yet it's something else that grabs my attention. There is a garish bruise -roughly the size of a fist- on her cheek. It looks like she has suffered a pretty severe blow. An uncontrollable urge drives me to approach her, gently touching her injury with my calloused fingers. It happened before I even had time to think about it. Like my hand possessed a mind of its own. "What happened? Who did this to you?" I ask coldly.
She takes hold of my wrist and keeps my hand locked there. "It matters not. Let's just say I have done something that's earned some rather unfriendly responses by a few people. That is what I wish to talk to you about."
"I am all ears." I remove my hand and leans back on my chair but somehow the feeling of her petal-soft skin remains on my fingers.
"A few weeks ago we received an unusual visitor back in Venice. A rather peculiar man, if you ask me. He came with an interesting offer and a request of our services of course. He only spoke with Theo and exchanged a few words with Yvonne. Although we were both thoroughly informed of the details of our mission, it felt as if there was something missing. Apart from the man and the odd nature of his offer, it seemed as if our negotiations would serve another greater purpose from what was shared with us. Thus, I investigated our assignments' background a little more and discovered some quite disturbing factors we were never aware of."
"What kind of factors?" I encourage her to continue despite her obvious hesitance to speak of the matter.
"The plan was simplistic enough. Our part at least. There was a Conte over whom we only had to gather information. Conte di Banchia. Nothing of great significance. It was a piece of cake learning all details of his life. You know how it is." I only nod my head in acknowledgement. "It was petty information that our "employer" requested, it was this that caught my attention."
"What kind of information?"
"Mostly regarding his financials and some assets. Odd, isn't it?" I nod my head again and she continues "But the story became less vague as I connected the pieces of the puzzle. Eight days ago the Conte was mysteriously found dead in his home in Napoli. There were no injuries, no health implications. The case was closed soon after the official examination and no further questions were asked due to his death's unknown nature." she finishes plainly, letting me take in the facts and collect my thoughts.
"He was poisoned and they covered it up. What a surprise." I chuckle gravely. There's almost a dramatic irony to these kind of stories.
"Funny, isn't it? No matter how great one is, there will always be someone superior to outshine him."
"Do you believe this is the case here?"
She nods. "Someone seems to have prominent merits from the Conte's death-"
"Someone with enough power to keep everything under wraps as well." I finish the sentence for her.
She smiles at my remark. We have always had a way of reading each other thoughts; finishing each other's sentences. "Exactly. That is not all I'm afraid though. It is my belief that the Conte was fully aware of the scheme against him."
"Why is that?" the story seems to be getting more and more interesting by the minute.
Instead of answering me right away, she pulls out a parchment and hands it over to me. "The marked spots are every estate or piece of land owned by the Conte. This was what we found." she leans towards me to point at some land in Cilento. "This was where he was found dead. Apparently, since he suspected this plot, he had taken measures to protect his family first. He moved in his cottage in Cilento in order to make them believe they were all still in Italy."
"But let me guess. They were not. He sent them off to protect them?" I cut her off.
"Precisely. His wife and daughter are currently in Moutier d'Ahun. That of course is unbeknownst to these plotters. Luckily for them."
"They were planning to kill them all. So what is it that I can assist you with?" I finally conclude.
"They are not going to quit. They will find them eventually and once they do, the weight of their deaths shall be on my shoulders. I cannot bear that thought, Athos. So I plead for your help. I want you to accompany me and assist me. We will find them and take them somewhere safer, perhaps seek protection from the Queen. We cannot let them die." her voice is cracking so I take her hand in my own, seeking to comfort her.
"You never change, do you? This immense sense of justice and compassion has always been one of your remarkable traits." I manage to make her smile again and drop her hand, rising from my seat. "I shall help you. But like you said, we must be very careful. Is it likely that they have people in France as well?"
She raises her eyebrows ironically at my statement of the obvious. "Most certainly. And it is probable they have already suspected where it is they are hiding. But if they have, they cannot take action. Not yet. It would be too risky to give themselves away and risk suspicion. It hasn't been that long since the Conte's tragedy. They are going to be alert and smart."
"Then we shall be smarter." I smile at her. "We should inform the others and start working on our plan as soon as possible. I am sure Treville will be willing to mediate and speak of our problem to the Queen. Then we will have permission to go through with this and someone to support us. In the meantime, we have to make sure you remain safe." my hand reaches for hers again I pull it towards me, my eyes lock on my new discoveries.
I raised the sleeves of her dress to take a better look. There were scars, too. Lines across, like someone or something had dug it's nails into her, tearing her flesh. Someone had clawed away at her, the gashes told the whole story. It is horrible; the way they disturb the perfect texture of her skin.
"Are you going to share the story?" I expected her to pull away but she doesn't.
She shakes her head lightly. "Does it matter?" she tilts her head, looking me in the eyes.
"Did they do this to you?"
"No, thank God no. They are unaware of my actions. It is their ignorance that is keeping me alive right now."
"Then who?"
"You see, in this story there are more people involved than I originally knew. Apart from this man and whomever he might have been associated with in this plan, apparently there are others who might profit. And one of these others got someone to get rid of me."
"I am going to take a wild guess and say they didn't quite achieve their goal." I run my finger on the line of my neck and laugh. Chances are whoever attacked her is already dead.
She laughs with that contagious laughter of hers. "You know me better than I thought, my sweet Athos."
