Thank you, everyone, who reviewed.
Sorry about the tardiness I writer's block on top of being introduced to Poldark (2015) equals me highly distracted but it in spired me.
Chapter 3 Small Hope's
Aramis felt weird being so clean and not having a beard at all was downright insulting. However, he did not mind as much as his hair and shaving had been done by Sr. Chiara who had also somehow scared the guards into letting a little light into his cell. She was a miracle and a blessing to him in these dark times. But he enduring kindness still could not extinguish the aching in his heart. It had become so bad that he could not stop the fit of tears that came to him every time he thought of someone he left behind. Although he did truly miss his brothers and Captain it pained in comparison to the yearning he had to hold his child even just to see him in the arms of his mother Anne God almighty did he miss them.
"Shhhh Aramis, shhh, breath. The Lord tis watching over you. I wish I could give you better words of comfort, but I refuse to promise you anything I can not keep." The words of Sr. Chiara brought Aramis out of his stopper as he wiped the tears away to see the hazel eyed maid staring back at him with wet eyes.
"You are too kind Sister," Aramis said hoarsely.
Sr. Chiara smiled responding, " Does not the Lord ask this of us? And who am I to deny a man in need?"
"What sort of answer is that?" came a cruel voice from down the hall one that made Aramis tense in fear. He hated his body for betraying him but at the first recognition of Grimaud's voice, all his body seemed to remember was that voice pain always followed. As he entered the cell Grimaud looked expectantly at Sr. Chiara for an answer but she gave none as she held Aramis protectively in her arms. "Answer me, girl!"
The French Musketeer encampment near the Spanish French border
It had been a couple of weeks since Athos' meeting with the Queen and the unmistakable proof that what they had been told about Aramis was a lie. However, his rosary did not provide proof that he still lives just that something was highly amiss. He wondered what it meant for the Queen to have found Aramis Rosary in the room of someone whom the King had high trust for. Athos mind had come up with many scenarios all of which were not pleasing to think about.
For, what it was worth him, Porthos, and D'artagnan were being called back to Paris. And whilst there he could try to find more proof thought it would be challenging since he had sworn to keep this information a secret from his two closest friends, for the fewer who knew the better. Yet, he could not help the small shimmer of hope to spark with in him.
The Queen's Private Chambers
The Dauphin was laughing with such joy as he ran around her private rooms Anne could not help but smile at her son. However, the smile was small and sad for hidden behind it was grief as she caught the similarities between that of her son and his father. When suddenly she heard a knock at the door.
"Enter," she said calmly.
A servant entered bowing he said. "There is a Madame D'artagnan to see you. Shall I let her in?"
"Yes, of course," Anne said eagerly.
Aramis' Cell
"Stop! Please, I beg you!" Aramis yelled as Grimaud helpless to stop his betting of Sr. Chiara. There had been no rhyme or reason to his action yet, there was a wicked logic to it. Grimaud new it would hurt Arimis more to see someone he cared for hurt while he could do nothing to stop it. He had held his tongue for nearly an hour before finally giving in and begging for the young girl's life. But, his pleas fell on deaf ears and the betting continued for another half hour or so.
When it was over Grimaud simply left the room with a malicious laugh that chilled Aramis to the bone. As soon as the man had left the cell Aramis quickly slid as close as he could to Sr. Chiara. "Is anything broken?" he whispered.
"I do not. . . ah. . think so. . hmph. . I have had worse from my . . ugh, Father. . . when I was younger." She then looked at him face tear stained but otherwise no worse for wear. Though the way she moved her body it was clear she was in pain.
"Allow me to check to make sure," he said with no room for argument. Sr. Chiara nodded and obliged and she was right merely burses bad ones but still only bruises. And as they lay together in that cell he told her about the last time he had seen his brothers.
"So," Sr. Chiara finally said after Aramis had finished his story he half expected her to scold him on his blatant disregard of the seventh and ninth command meant instead what she said through him near completely off guard. "D'artagnan married Constance who is most likely living in at the Musketeer Garrison. What would you say if I wrote her a letter?"