King Louis stepped from the palace doors dressed in an unadorned quilted doublet, leather breeches, and tall black leather boots. A light blue cloak was draped across his shoulders, and he elegantly flipped the front flap over his right shoulder as he stepped toward the assemblage of horses and carriages. He paused a moment as his subjects righted themselves from the bowed position and took a deep breath of fresh air. He inhaled the scent of orange blossom bushes that grew in abundance beyond the gardens. Despite the warmth of the sun, the air was crisp, and he could see his breath as he exhaled.
"Sire," Treville said, and stepped forward. He raised his hand toward the tall black gelding with a strong neck, a broad chest, and feathering along his legs. The big horse tossed his head and nickered as additional riders entered through the front gates.
"Magnificent, Treville," Louis said, and slapped his hands together. He smiled, pulled his gloves from his belt, and slipped them on. "Can we make 16 leagues in one day?" He turned and walked with him down the steps. "Or shall we stop and enjoy the scenery when the moment befalls us?" He watched a footman place a mounting stool below the stirrup, and Louis quickly stepped upward, slipped his foot into the stirrup, and mounted.
Aramis handed King Louis the reins and then turned toward his own mount. Porthos nodded, and then glanced toward the palace as Athos and d'Artagnan walked alongside the queen. King Louis glanced toward her, then kicked his horse's sides, urging the black into an easy lope. Aramis shook his head, glanced toward Treville, and quickly followed with Porthos and four other musketeers.
"When Louis heard his string ensemble had been copied by King Charles," Anne said, and gripped Athos' hand as she walked alongside him, "he was rather incensed — but I think he's grown rather prideful of the fact that his musical forte has become quite renoun beyond his own royal court." She smiled, but looked toward the backs of the riders as they cantered their horses from the courtyard.
Anne adjusted her grip on d'Artagnan's forearm and glanced toward Treville as he stepped beside the carriage. She was five months pregnant, her dresses had been altered to fit her growing belly, and were designed to disguise her pregnancy. However, the alterations did not ease her morning sickness or swollen ankles. Despite her discomfort, she glowed.
"His dedication to the arts is admirable, majesty," Athos said, and glanced toward d'Artagnan who opened the carriage door.
"Majesty," Treville said, and bowed.
"I fear, Treville, that in my husband's haste to depart, he may have overlooked our current situation." Anne smiled. She released d'Artagnan's arm and grasped Treville's as he guided her toward the carriage.
"It's been a long winter, majesty, perhaps in his excitement he has elected to forgo formality." Treville adjusted his hand in her grasp and helped her into the carriage.
Anne gathered her skirts in her left hand. "You're very kind," she said, and leaned against the seat. "But I fear this is much greater than a moment of excitement."
Treville glanced toward Athos, who stepped aside as the cardinal walked toward them. He was draped in a red cloak that broadened his shoulders.
"Gentlemen," Richelieu said, and nodded toward them. "It might be advantageous for us to depart sooner than later, given our king's hasty exodus." He grabbed the carriage doorframe and stepped inside opposite the queen.
Treville closed the door, stepped back, and nodded toward the driver who slapped the carriage horses' rumps with the long leather reins. With a sudden jolt forward, a tug of leather against metal, and the clang of the hitch against iron, the horses moved toward the exit.