"I have to ask," D'Artagnan says as Constance pulls him inside her house and presses a kiss to his lips, "are you certain you are married? In all the time I have been in Paris, your husband has been in Brussels. Are you certain he exists?"
She laughs and pulls the pins from her curling red hair, letting it fall down over her mostly bare shoulders. "He exists. I didn't make him up just to toy with you, D'Artagnan. And he's in Florence now, I think."
"Florence? Selling his cloths to the Medicis?"
"More or less. King Louis was convinced that my husband was the best cloth merchant in all of France, and highly skilled at creating beautiful fabrics," she adds as she pours wine into two glasses, "so he sent my husband to his mother to be in her royal employ."
D'Artagnan does not know a lot about fabrics and cloth merchants but he suspects that Monsieur Bonacieux is not all that much different from another man in the business. "King Louis took notice of your husband's salesmanship skills? Our king does like fine clothes but he does not strike me as a man who bothers with where his clothes and drapes come from."
"Saying that might be treasonous," she warns with a smile, "but I won't report you. What does it matter, anyway? My husband will be wherever Marie de Medici is for the foreseeable future while I, his poor and defenseless wife, must look after myself here."
He can't help the laugh that escapes and he doesn't really try. "Poor and defenseless?"
Constance smirks and hands him a glass, gesturing for him to follow her into the bedroom. "Enough about my husband on our night off. How is your parabatai?"
"He says he is entirely recovered from his wounds. Aramis disagrees. Rather loudly. It is very tense at the garrison; Athos pacing like a caged animal, Aramis hovering sternly like a priest, and Porthos lounging like a bear ready to hibernate or attack at any second." He swallows a gulp of wine and grins at here. "Why do you think I came here?"
Sitting on the trunk at the foot of the bed, she pats the spot beside her. "I would hope, sir, because you wanted my company more than you only wanted to avoid the company of others."
He laughs and pulls her closer as he sits down. "How can I help it if I can achieve two desired things by coming here? But you will always be most important, ma'am."
Constance giggles and leans to set her glass on the floor. "Don't call me ma'am, it makes me sound old. I am young."
She proves herself very young a few moments later, catching D'Artagnan by surprise and flipping him onto his back in the middle of the bed. She straddles him and pauses, her skirts flowing over them both. "I don't think my husband will come back," she says softly, leaning over him, "So if you can't live with that, I understand. Just tell me now."
In answer, D'Artagnan reaches up and pulls her down as he arches his back so that their lips meet. "Live with that makes it sound like a chore. I don't care how I am with you. I just want to be with you."
It is all she needs to hear and she unties the strings on his shirt.
Her corset and underclothes are gone quickly, tossed to the floor by D'Artagnan just as they are every time he and Constance meet this way. It doesn't escape him that they can meet this way much more often if Marie de Medici keeps Monsieur Bonacieux in her employ. He shakes his head to rid himself of thoughts of the other man, and it is made easier when Constance attacks his lips with her own.
Constance wakes up in a tangle of sheets and bare limbs. D'Artagnan is still sleeping soundly beside her, trapping her arm between his shoulder and the pillow. Dawn has barely broken over Paris but she needs to get up. As a half-Nephilim, half-Seelie, she is already bridging two worlds and today, at the request of Her Most Christian Majesty Queen Anne, she will begin bridging a third. Constance had been to the Louvre with her husband selling cloths a few times and, it seemed, the Queen had noticed her. She suspects that Queen Anne is behind her husband's assignment to the staff of King Louis' mother but she doesn't know for sure. What she does know is that she has been assigned as chief lady-in-waiting to Queen Anne and has been assigned a room at the Louvre.
Receiving a handwritten message from the Queen the day before had confirmed at least some of her suspicions, telling her that she was free to make use of the room as she wished and would certainly keep her marital home as well. Fearing she was reading too much into it, she wonders if the Queen knows about her relationship with D'Artagnan and is trying to play matchmaker.
She can't imagine why that would be.
In any case, Captain Treville has also given her a job at the Louvre - to act as his eyes and ears in the Queen's circle and to warn him of any danger spoken of there or any danger to the Queen. He assured her as well that there would be Shadowhunters in the Louvre that she could go to if the danger is immediate and there is no time to go to him.
Constance is proud that he trusts her so much because the Nephilim do not often trust women in positions like this, especially if they were not fully Nephilim.
She wiggles her arm out from under D'Artagnan and dresses quickly and quietly in her best dress, one sent from the Louvre with the message. Being part-Nephilim and part-Seelie, she is flexible in ways that most women are not and manages to do up the hooks on the dress without waking him for help. Constance keeps herself from waking him up, like she badly wants to do, because she knows he has been working hard and will be working hard. He should get to sleep in when he gets the chance, especially when she has to leave anyway.
Confident that Athos will come for him or he will wake up on his own, she brushes a kiss on his forehead and leaves for the Louvre just as Paris truly begins to come to life for the day.
After Athos' birthday life returns to normal. They continue their duties for King and Country, and for the Shadow World. Athos injuries are healing well and Porthos is really happy to see his brother and the boy working well together. It's another story with Aramis. After the ritual and the night out his parabatai is sulking. He's always in a bad mood and even if the others don't notice the little hints Aramis gives, he knows that his friend is not sleeping well at night. He looks at his left where Aramis is standing waiting for Treville's orders for today and he sees the musketeer rubbing at his right temple like he does when a headache is coming or he had nightmares during the night. The fact that his hat is covering his eyes and he has his head bent means that Aramis is suffering a headache induced by nightmares. He starts to turn to him when Treville's voice startles him.
"Porthos, You'll be at the Palace at the Queen's request. You should be there in half an hour. Is that clear?" Treville says. Porthos nods, focusing on Aramis as soon as the Captain gives an order to another musketeer.
"Aramis, is everything alright?" he whispers, getting closer to his brother.
"Yes, don't worry," he replies, keeping his voice low and not looking Porthos. He knows that Aramis won't talk about it anytime soon so he leaves it be.
Again Treville's voice echoes in the courtyard. "Athos, Aramis and D'Artagnan... where is the boy?" he asks looking Athos.
"I don't know Captain but he'll be ready for the day. Any orders?" Athos says.
"You'll patrol Le Marais and Notre Dame. And Athos? You have one hour to find D'Artagnan or he'll clean the stables for the next two weeks," he says, climbing the stairs.
"I'll go to Madame Bonacieux's house," Athos states as soon as Treville closed the door of his office. They know where to find the boy when he's not in the garrison.
"I must go to the Palace. Athos..." He calls his brother pointing at Aramis and pleading silently for Athos to take care of him during his absence. The musketeer nods in confirmation and he runs outside the garrison.
Porthos squeezes Aramis' shoulder and heads to get ready.
The Queen almost squeals when she sees Porthos enter her quarter. She is so happy that she almost forgets her ladies in waiting are there too. She really like this musketeer. Not that his other three friends are a bad looking but Porthos has something different from the others. She doesn't know if it's what he talked about during their previous encounters or how he treats her every time, but she loves it.
He bows with a little "Majesty" escaping his lips and then he stands.
"Porthos, it is some time that I don't walk in the gardens and it's a lovely day to stay confined in my rooms. Would you accompany me outside?" she explains.
"It will be my honor, Your Majesty," he replies, smiling at her.
She turn to one of her lady. "Juliette, please, take care of the Dauphin during my absence. And call me if he needs something".
During the period Porthos has been the Queen's bodyguard, she gave birth to a beautiful and healthy boy. As is tradition, until his christening, the future King of France will be known only as the Dauphin, and only then the King will reveal his name. The lady nods, bows and leaves the room. The Queen stands from her place on the couch and start walking.
"Let Constance know where we are," she says, leaving the room followed by a surprised Porthos.
They walk for awhile, Porthos following the Queen a step behind. They arrive to a little clearing where some benches and a fountain create a circle. The Queen sits, turning her lovely face to the sun and closing her eyes. Porthos stands next to her without moving a muscle.
He's so focused on his task that at first he doesn't hear the Queen calls for him. "Monsieur Porthos?"
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty," he says.
"Don't worry. I asked if you want to sit with me," she explains, smiling at him.
"I don't think it's appropriate, Your Majesty," he answers, looking the Queen in the eyes.
"Please, Porthos. You've been standing there for what seems like hours and I feel lonely here. I promise, when Constance arrives, you can take your place again," she pleads him.
There's something in her that make his stomach does strange things. He's not so sure they are always good things but he doesn't want to know the truth, for now. And when she looks at him like that he can't say no to her. So he nods and sits next to her.
"So, from your face before, you know Constance Bonacieux outside of here but you didn't know she is one of my ladies in waiting," she states.
"Yes, I know her for some time now, but she never mentioned that she works here." He doesn't know if the Queen knows what Constance is, or that she is with D'Artagnan when her husband is away, so he keeps quiet.
The Queen explains that she is a new recruit but she doesn't say how and when she started, so Porthos doesn't ask.
There's something lingering between them and this time is not his stomach doing funny thing.
"Is there something that worries you, Your Majesty?" he asks when she doesn't talk anymore.
"What? No, don't worry, Porthos. My son's governess is sick and I don't know if she spread something to him. He's so little and I can't think about him sick," she confesses.
Porthos sees this woman, this powerful woman, worried about her son, like every other woman. Maybe is that or the fact that he remembers his own mother, so sick and tired that he couldn't stand it, gave everything to him, let herself die of starvation, if the fever didn't take her before. He put a hand on hers rubbing softly and trying to comfort her. Even if she says she isn't worried Porthos knows that she is. And not only for her son.
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty." Constance's voice breaks the spell and Porthos bolts upright in an instant.
"Don't worry, Constance. Porthos was good company in your absence," she says with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. The Queen stands slipping her arm in Constance's. "Let's walk," she prompts. Porthos follows.
Porthos doesn't listen to a word to what the women are talking about. From the moment he took his hand from the Queen's, his stomach had started a rebellion. He keeps rubbing his hand where the warmth of the Queen hand lingers, and he can't stop thinking about her.
So it takes a moment to him to register the screaming coming from a bush. When he realizes that the Queen is not beside Constance but she turned a corner some moments ago, he starts running. What he finds freezes the blood in his veins.
There, lying in the middle of the path, there is the Royal Governess, dead.