Suddenly, Aramis found what he had been looking for. It was one of the filthiest brothels in all of Paris.
"Here we are," he said and opened the door. "Celeste, do not let go on my hand for anything."
Sleazy whores where longing around, women at the very bottom of life. They stirred and tried to look more appealing as the two well dressed gentlemen entered.
Aramis kept Celeste behind him.
"Aramis…" stuttered Porthos, glancing at Celeste. "These are…these are whores! How can you bring Celeste…"
"So was Mary Magdalene and our Lord loved her," said Aramis.
"Did she have tits like that?"
Celeste almost choked on laughter.
The man who owned the brothel shuffled over. He was greasy and disgusting under his layers of filth. "What do you want? White? Black? Both?"
"No," said Aramis. "We want you, Father Belles."
The man's eyes blazed with furry and he drew a pistol. "Get out! now! I will kill you where you stand!"
Slowly Aramis dropped to his knees. "Bless me, Father for I have sinned."
The man, the former Father Belles who used to be Anne's priest, shoved his pistol in Aramis's face. "Don't! get out!"
"Father Belles?" whispered Celeste. "Is it you?"
Father Belles had only left as the Queen's priest when Louis was twelve and Celeste had been eleven. She had spent a good deal of her time with Anne, so she knew Father Belles. And knew him well.
Father Belles looked at her. "Celeste D'Artagnan?"
"Yes," she breathed.
Father Belles looked at Aramis.
He continued. "I have sinned. And no other priests' assurance of forgiveness can mean as much as yours. Tell me that I can be forgiven, no matter what I've done." He looked deep into the fallen priest's soul.
Porthos's eyes where bugging out of his head. He was poised to snatch Celeste and run the moment Aramis's head was blown apart. "He's going to kill you, Aramis."
"Then let him kill me, if all my faith is wrong." He looked at Father Belles. "I have come to help you make I right. I have come to take you home."
Father Belles shook convulsively and fell to his knees. He bowed his head and wept.
Aramis's carriage pulled into the monastery and he got out, lifting Celeste out behind him. She had wrapped herself in a black cloak and had the hood thrown up over her face.
The Jesuits came out of the monastery to meet the carriage.
Porthos got out next.
But the appearance of the pimp surprised them and they crossed themselves.
"Father Belles!" they whispered. They all clustered around the prodigal priest and embraced him.
One of the monks turned to Aramis. "You have made a miracle!"
"God makes miracles." Aramis winked at the monk. "You make dinner." As he turned and took Celeste to wisked her off to the dinning room, one of the Jesuits hurried to him.
"The ball has been rescheduled…for tomorrow."
Aramis looked at Celeste. "I have to go."
"I have to stay," she said. "I must see D'Artagnan. I'll be waiting for you when you get back."
Despite the other priests gathered, Aramis gave her a kiss and then turned back to the carriage.
Celeste watched it as it thundered out of the courtyard, then she turned her feet toward the palace.