Anne

The oppressive darkness of the room was only slightly disturbed by the flickering flame of the candle she held in her hand. Fortunately, the heavy curtains would not betray her presence. She placed the candle on top of the mahogany cabinet, and started her methodic search.

There were quite a few documents whose presence on Rochefort's desk was justified. After all, the man was acting as a Prime Minister. Various complaints from nobles, petitions from people who felt they had been wronged… none of these were worth her attention. Each minute she spent here added to the danger, but she knew it was only place she was likely to find any clues.

Anne left the letters on the table, and looked around the room. There must be something here that they could use as proof! If she failed to find it, all of them were doomed.

Suddenly, her wandering gaze was halted by a barely perceptible irregularity on the expensive tapestry that covered a large section of the opposite wall. It could have been just a flaw in the design, but further investigation revealed a small tear in an area where there were no other signs of damage. She cautiously lifted up the tapestry, and found that the wall underneath it was unscathed. Milady slid her slim fingers over the fabric, and felt something hidden inside. With a bit of work, she managed to slide out a tiny bottle.

Probably poison. But I cannot prove that I found it here.

Frustrated, she put the bottle back, making sure she left no sign that it had been disturbed.

Her second visit to Rochefort's apartments led her to his bedroom. The nobleman's strong smell still hung in the air, and she found herself barely able to tolerate it. She forced herself to ignore it, and focused on searching for likely hiding places. She could not hold back a smile when she checked under the bed, and found a small hole in the floor.

Men are so predictable.

She was astonished to find the letter that the Queen had written to her brother, the King of Spain. Obviously it was a odd thing for Rochefort to have in his possession, but it could not be considered definitive proof. There was also a description of a girl to be hired from a brothel. The list of requirements which needed to be met was quite long, but even if it was obvious to her that the prostitute was meant to be a stand-in for the Queen…

The King is too ill to understand the significance of it. I need something that will prove beyond a shadow of a doubt what Rochefort has done.

Unfortunately, she did not find anything worthwhile.

The Red Guard garrison was out of her reach, but she doubted he would be stupid enough to hide anything compromising there. Rochefort was clever. That was what made him so dangerous.

Milady returned to the King's side. He was awake, and spared her a bored glance. His eyes were unfocused.

"How do you feel, Sire?" she asked, modestly lowering her gaze.

"Come here, my darling," he murmured. She sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers gently caressing his arm.

"I miss him, you know… I am so lonely without him… nobody truly understands me. The Queen is so distant. It really makes no difference to me if she is here or not. But I need him so much… especially now, when I feel so ill."

"The Cardinal's death was a great tragedy, Sire," Milady replied swiftly. Personally, she had never spent a second mourning the man, but she understood Louis' grief.

"You are so clever, my darling. It's a pity he never met you."

She shivered.

"Don't be afraid, my darling. He would have accepted you as my mistress."

She hid her face in his arm, and allowed him to feel as if he was reassuring and comforting her. The sensation of his fingers stroking her carefully pinned up hair did feel nice. She tried to remind of herself Athos' touch...his smell. Then she cursed herself.

More than anything, I want to forget him...yet I can't stop myself from reliving the sweet moments we had together.

There was a knock on the door.

The King frowned, and called out in a petulant voice, "I do not wish to be disturbed!"

Muffled voices were heard, and then the door was thrown open with fury.

Milady stiffened, and prepared herself for a fight.

"Rochefort!" Louis gave him a look of disgust. "I left orders for you to be kept away from me!"

"Forgive me, Your Majesty. Unfortunately, I have some bad news for you."

"Whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow."

"I am afraid this cannot wait, Your Majesty."

Milady started to get up, but Louis tightened his hold on her arm, and motioned for her to stay at his side. He was so weak that she could have easily freed herself, but that would not have been appropriate.

"Rochefort, I order you to leave!"

"It's about the Queen! I believe she may be in serious danger-or she may be putting the country in serious danger."

Louis sighed heavily, and turned to Milady.

"Leave us for a moment, my darling." he murmured.

She got up, and withdrew into the adjoining room. She carefully closed the door behind her, but made sure she was still able to hear every word

"Your Majesty, I am sorry to bring such disturbing news to you, but upon my return to the capital, I received reports that the Queen had been attacked. According to the information I've managed to gather, it seems that this attack did indeed occur. But it remains unclear whether the musketeers who were with her died defending her or helped her to escape."

Louis sat up, his voice rising in agitation. "Well, was she actually kidnapped, or did she manage to escape her captors?"

"I am afraid that the question you are asking should be framed differently. In other words, was the Queen really kidnapped? Or was this event planned and staged by her, so she could return to Spain? After all, if she betrayed France, her brother would be much more likely to allow her to take up residence in Spain with her lover."

"Her lover?!"

"Sire, I am sorry to say that the Queen has betrayed you with a musketeer."

"What are you talking about?!"

"Your Majesty, let me offer you irrefutable proof."

Milady waited with bated breath. What evidence did Rochefort have?!

She heard the sound of scroll of paper being unwound, and then a sudden gasp.

"It cannot be true!"

"I am so sorry," Rochefort replied, his words dripping with false sympathy.

"I want you to arrest them!" Louis sputtered. "Athos, d'Artagnan-and-all those infamous-what do they call them? Yes, the Inseparables!" Apparently the King did not even remember their names. "They will meet their end on the wheel!"

"Sire, I assure you that their treason would be punished with the utmost severity." There was clear satisfaction in Rochefort's oily voice.

Anne closed her eyes. She had failed. Why had the stupid musketeers put her in this position? They were supposed to be the best warriors in France, and now she had to save them! Why couldn't they have made it back to Paris before Rochefort?!

The King seemed to have forgotten about her. She waited for several minutes, then silently entered the bedroom. Louis lay on the bed, tears in his eyes.

"Why did she do this to me?" he wailed.

"Who, Sire?"

"Why has my wife betrayed me?"

"I really don't think she would do such a thing, Your Majesty." She took him in her arms, and he leaned against her, his body trembling.

"You are such a kind, naive creature," he whispered, his eyes full of despair.

"I urge you not to believe the worst possible version of events," she said gently."There may yet be another explanation. It hurts me to see you so worried and sad."

He showed no reaction to her words, despite the fact that she had basically just told him that she had overheard the entire conversation. Perhaps he did not want to acknowledge it... or maybe he simply didn't care at this point.

"He told me that the musketeers have betrayed me….that they have been plotting against me with the Queen." Louis unburdened himself as Milady stroked his hair, trying to soothe his agitation.

"Sire, the Comte de Rochefort must be devastated by his mother's death. She must have died before he reached her home, and that is why he is back so soon. More than likely, his mother never got a chance to see him after he escaped from the Spanish prison. I am sure that the guilt is tearing him apart, and he is not thinking rationally."

The King looked at her for the first time. He wanted so badly to believe her. She could read it in his eyes, which were still glistening with tears.

"I so hope you are right… I told him where the musketeers were. Then he'll bring them here, and everything will be right."

No he won't. He'll kill them. He'll kill Treville, and else anyone he finds there.

"So you are going to give them a chance to tell their side of the story, Sire?" she asked, feeling a bit relieved.

He sat up straighter. "Yes, I will. After all, I chose these men personally. I could not have made a mistake!"

"Certainly not, Sire. You always make excellent choices," she purred.

Milady gently kissed Louis, her tongue caressing his lips. She needed to tire him out, and then leave him satisfied and sleepy. And she needed to do it quickly.

After a short time, she succeeded, and left the King sprawled on the bed, snoring softly.

She got up, and felt a bit lightheaded.

What the hell? What's wrong with me?

There was no time to waste thinking about it. She waited a moment for her head to clear, then slipped out of the King's chamber, and returned to her own rooms. She changed into men's clothes, which would be much more suitable for riding, then left the main part of the palace.

Should I warn the musketeers in the garrison? Probably not. If they don't know my plan, they cannot possibly betray me.

She needed to warn Treville. The man was more than a match for Rochefort.

She sneaked out of the building, then froze. The Red Guard lieutenants were standing at attention in front of Rochefort.

"These four musketeers have committed high treason. They have threatened the Queen. They deserve no mercy, but if they are brought back alive, they need to be presentable enough to stand in front of the King and receive his judgment."

His men acknowledged his orders with cruel smiles. Then they saluted him, and headed for their section of the stables.

Milady followed them, then split off to enter another part of the stables. One of Rochefort's horses was saddled and ready. She quickly approached the animal, soothing him with a few soft words. Then she slipped a small bottle out of her skirts, and put a few drops of liquid in the waterskin that hung from his saddle. She could not poison him right now, but she could slow him down. Finishing, she moved into the shadows, then went into another part of stables.

She readied her horse by herself, not wanting to attract any attention. Mounting up, she maneuvered cautiously towards the gate. The guard recognized her, and opened the gate with a small bow. She walked the horse until she was well out of earshot, then urged him into a gallop. She needed to ride faster than the Red Guards in order to get to Treville first.

Why haven't the stupid musketeers already returned with the Queen?! Did they manage to rescue her? Or did they perish trying? Perhaps they are still tracking their enemies.

Rochefort was back. Did that mean he had met with success or defeat? There were too many questions, and too little time.

Why am I doing this?

I should be on my way out of France.

Then a thought occured in her mind.

No! I'm not risking my life for Athos. He doesn't deserve it!

A/N

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