Constance

Even though she was not the one dying from the poison, the last few hours had seemed like a nightmare. If she could, she would have taken Anne's place in a heartbeat. Since she could not, she was determined to do everything possible in order to save her Queen. She completely understood Aramis' decision to test the antidote on himself, but her heart ached for the handsome musketeer.

She placed another bowl of cold water on the little table near the bed. The Captain thanked her with a slight nod.

"Captain, I think you should eat something. I'll get you some food." She spoke in a whisper, not wanting to disturb the Queen, who remained restless in her feverish sleep.

"Thank you, Constance, but I am not hungry. Perhaps later."

She could see that he thanked her not for the offer, but for the moment of distraction she gave him. After a moment, his solemn gaze drifted back to the Queen's face.

"Fight, Anne!" she whispered, gently touching her friend's damp hair. When they were in the privacy of Queen's rooms, the young royal always insisted that Constance call her by her given name.

.

"For whom?"

The question was barely audible, and Constance was at a loss for what to say. If only they had been alone! Then she would have felt free to say exactly for whom the Queen should survive.

"Fight for your son, My Lady!" urged Tréville, saving Madame Bonacieux from her indecision.

"Will you take care of him…? I want...I want him... to be a better King that my husband…", she pleaded, this time searching the Captain's eyes with her own.

"You will live, Your Majesty! You received the proper antidote." The Captain's voice was firm.

Hearing his words, all Constance could only think about was Aramis. He was probably dying somewhere in this damned cold Palace right at this very moment. She did not want to think about how his death would affect Anne, provided that she survived. She did not want to think about the grief his brothers would have to deal with. She feared for d'Artagnan. God, she still loved him!

She looked at the young Queen.

We are so alike. Both in love with musketeers, both disrespected by our husbands… only… you are the Queen… and even if your husband dies, you won't be free… I… God, how can I even think about my husband's death?! What kind of a person am I?!

"Promise me, Captain!" Anne's voice sounded so frightened and childlike. "Promise me… Jean."

"I will do my best for your son, but I could never replace his mother," he replied gravely, gently lifting her hand to his lips. He placed a soft kiss on her fingers.

Just like an older brother…

Constance had become familiar with this kind of kiss- full of respect and love-ever since the Inseparables had started to trust her. They all treated her as their dearest sister. After her husband had threatened to kill himself, d'Artagnan had tried to treat her the way the others did, but it had not worked. How could it?! She missed him so much. She could still read love in his hazel eyes. She could still read his affection in his gestures. She could still feel the desire in his voice when he was talking to her…

And all these emotions were reciprocated…

When she had seen him suicidal, it had broken her heart. She suddenly realized that she did not care about her reputation, or about her sacred vows. She cared only about this broken-or nearly broken-young musketeer. If she could help him, it was be worth damning her soul to hell.

Anne seemed to relax a little after the Captain's promise. Deroux came to check on the Queen. Constance did not realize that she was holding her breath until it suddenly became painful.

Finally, Deroux withdrew from the bedside.

"How is she, doctor?"

Treville was sponging the Queen's face, as she still had a high fever.

"Better, but she needs some sleep- and she really needs for that fever to break…. Madame Bonacieux, could you please check on Monsieur Aramis?"

"Yes, of course- if I am not needed here," replied Constance, feeling relieved. She had had enough of standing by uselessly as the Captain took care of Anne. And it seemed that the Queen accepted his care with gratitude.

Because he is a musketeer… the commander of hermusketeer-and her musketeer respects him

Why was fate was so cruel? Why was Anne not allowed to love the man whom her heart had chosen? The one who would be a good and loyal husband to her, instead of acting like a spoiled child? Since Constance had started her work at Court, all the respect she had had for the King had evaporated. His actions today meant that she could never have any warm feelings for him ever again. She was close to hating her King-the man who had chosen to abandon his wife so cruelly.

The Captain silently agreed to her departure. Deroux told her where to find Aramis and d'Artagnan. She hoped she would not get lost in the labyrinth of corridors and staircases, as she knew that the Palace was not a safe place. When she arrived at the door which matched the description the doctor had given her, she knocked. She tried to calm her hammering heart enough to be able to hear what was going in the room. But all was silent. The door was probably too thick to hear anything. Nobody answered her knock, so she pressed on the handle, and the door opened. The sight she met caused her to freeze.

Both musketeers were on the floor. Aramis was lying in d'Artagnan arms, his face hidden in the crook of the boy's arm.

It can't be comfortable for him to breathe in this position…But maybe he does not need to breathe any more…

D'Artagnan lifted his head. Tears were falling down his face. Constance realized that she was trembling. Her Gascon tightened his grip on his friend.

"Get Athos. Please!" he begged.

Constance felt that her questions had to wait, as there was so much despair in the musketeer's voice.

"Where can I find him?" she asked, panic creeping into her own voice.

"I have no idea," murmured the Gascon, gently stroking Aramis' hair.

"Should I get Doctor Deroux too?"

"No! Just Athos. Go!" The order and the plea were both desperate.

She nodded, and ran. She fled from the room which might soon contain her grieving sweetheart and the body of her dead friend. She desperately wanted to believe that they would prevail one more time-that they would survive.

Finding Athos turned out to be a difficult task. Finally, a musketeer led her to one of the guard rooms. Athos was conversing with Etienne, but broke off when he saw her. His eyes looked at her with dread.

"D'Artagnan begged for me to find you, and tell you to come immediately!" she blurted out, interrupting Etienne in mid-sentence.

"Do you know why…?"

She nodded, and whispered only one word – "Aramis." Suddenly, she realized that she was not capable of finishing her sentence. She could not voice her fear.

Athos already looked unwell, but he turned even paler. He did not ask any questions, but bolted from the room. For a moment, she hesitated, then decided to follow. She was very afraid of what awaited them.

Riversidewren, thank you.

Happy New Year to all my Readers!