"I think it's her." The two grown men are pressed up against a door frame, peeking through the small crack of the ajar door while Richelieu points to a rather energetic and exceedingly well-fed noblewoman.

"Why her?"

"She once called me cupcake." The seriousness and suspicion in the Cardinal's countenance and words leave Tréville thumping his forehead against the wooden frame before slipping away to wander the corridor in pensive silence.

"How often do receive these letters?"

"Once every few days in the beginning. Now there's a new one every day."

"And today?" Tréville steps close to the Cardinal, praying that he's actually on to something.

"I haven't been in my office."

"They always come to your office? Who delivers them?" The captain turns away and heads for the office of the First Minister.

"Yes, but I'm not ever there when they arrive. Normally they've appeared by now."

When at last they arrive, they find a bakery box adorned with a ruby ribbon sitting in the middle of the Cardinal's desk. Richelieu finds a note tucked beneath the red accoutrement.

Dearest Armand,

I love you more than the most delightful desserts.

"At least you know it's not Porthos," Tréville chuckles over Richelieu's shoulder. "Didn't mention your majestic eyebrows either."

"What a relief," Richelieu mutters with a level of sarcasm Athos would respect.

"Is this the first time a gift was involved?"

"Yes." Richelieu steps back from the box as though expecting a demon to spring forth at any moment.

"Aren't you going to open it?" A rising eyebrow is the Cardinal's only response, so Tréville sighs and asks, "Can I open it?". Of course Richelieu allows him to as long as he himself isn't killed in the process. However, the contents appear harmless enough, even giving off heat as a testament to their freshness. "They're sweet cakes." Tréville smiles despite Richelieu's continued paranoia and takes a bite of one. "I know who makes these."

"I'll go with you."

"Don't you have a nation to run?" He turns to leave, but the Minister's sudden hold on his arm halts his forward progress.

"Take those with you." Richelieu's lip curls when he nods toward the baked goods atop his desk.

Tréville gives up trying to talk sense into the man and so collects the food and departs the palace grounds.

The bakery is tucked away much the way one would hide a treasured possession, and this back alley gem is the sole seller of perfect sweet cakes, in Tréville's humble opinion. Behind the counter stands the owner's wife who greets him with a familiarity born of frequent purchases.

"Should I be concerned that you entered my shop with one of our boxes already in hand? Has Henri been experimenting again?" She says it all with a smile and a wink; Tréville has never returned or complained about his purchases, not even when Henri, the baker's son, forces new recipes upon him.

"Not at all. In fact, Athos sends Henri his thanks and compliments for last week's tarts; he was called away on a mission before he could tell him personally. But I'm here on business. A friend of mine received these cakes this morning. Do you recall who ordered them?"

"It'll cost you dinner next Wednesday."

"Anything for you."

"A young woman about my height, blonde hair, and she had a large birth mark on the right side of her neck. She was dressed as a servant or something of that nature, but that's all I can recall."

"She never gave a name?"

The baker's wife shakes her head, but the Captain supposes that a name was too much to ask for. However, he now possesses a new clue in his quest to find Richelieu's admirer, and, wishing the woman a good day, he sets out for the Bonacieux house in hope that Constance might have encountered the young woman in her business or on the streets.


"I'm sorry I wasn't helpful," Constance apologizes as she walks Tréville to the door. "Have you… I hate to ask, but have you asked Aramis?"

"No, he's on a mission with Athos, but he's due back this evening. I didn't want to encourage his nocturnal habits. Thank you for your time, Madame."

And with that Tréville returns to the Musketeer garrison.