Louis was exasperated. Michelle was lying on the bed, simply staring at the ceiling. "What is wrong?"
She said nothing.
He tried to kiss her but she turned away.
"What is wrong!"
She burst into tears and began weeping uncontrollably. She buried her face in her hands. "Oh Raoul…Raoul…."
"Listen, my darling….Raoul was a…a good friend. And now he is dead and that is very sad but…" began Louis.
"We'll burn in hell. Both of us," whispered Michelle.
Louis stood. He had had enough of this. "No, my love. You will burn in hell for your sins. But I will not…for I am King. My position is ordained by God." He turned and stalked from the room. He went to his room and paced angrily, too agitated to sleep. He started past the window and stopped dead in his track. He turned and stared out of the window.
There was a man standing in the gardens. Wearing an iron mask.
The shout came from the back of Louis's throat. "D'Artagnan!"
The man in the garden disappeared into the shadows.
D'Artagnan was sitting on his bed, thinking of Anne, when he heard Louis. In an instant, he jumped to his feet, grabbed his sword and ran out of his room. Down the corridor, toward Louis' room. His heart was thumping. If something had happened…
The guards outside the King's room where furious. Once again, Louis had locked his doors from within, something he had been told not to do several times.
D'Artagnan didn't stop, he crashed into the doors.
Louis whirled as the doors exploded inward and D'Artagnan dashed in.
"Out there! Look! Out there!" cried Louis, pointing at the garden.
It was empty.
"I just left the garden," said D'Artagnan. "It was empty. What did you see?"
Louis saw the other musketeers standing behind D'Artagnan. "It…was nothing. A nightmare, nothing more. Go away."
D'Artagnan studied him for a moment and then turned. "Check the garden," he ordered. He glanced back again to see Louis's face. It was full of shame and worry at the same time.
An old Jesuit priest slipped back into the garden chapel where the nuns had returned to pray. He knelt at a back pew and tucked the iron mask deep in his robes.
The young musketeers moving through the garden, glanced in the chapel. And moved on.
The old priest crossed him and bowed his head so no one would see his smile.