Chapter 6

(this story went of the trail but who cares lol so let's continue, because I'd rather write this than uni work)

MILADY pov

Today was a wreck. The entire day was a disappointment, starting from the very morning, when she was forced to wash blood out of her hair. Her informant gave her a lead that led her to exactly nowhere, the edge of Paris, and an ambush by angry rebels that thought she was some important noble. Killing them was easy, but very inconvenient. She found herself covered in blood, her hair mussed and her bright orange dress was now a few shades darker. She would have strangled the informant but she had a meeting with the Queen, so instead she screamed at the wall of her apartment.

She was now seated in front of a mirror while her maid was finishing up her hair. Her neck was uncovered and so she was forced to stare at the scar. It made her clench her jaw. It was ugly, and no necklace could ever make it pretty.

She reached for the choker that lay on the table in front of her. It was made out of pearls and pink ribbons, matching her bright pink velvet dress and cream cloak. She pushed her maid's hands away and wrapped the pearls around her neck, tied it tightly, and let out a heavy breath. Every time her fingers brushed the scarred line she was reminded of how it felt to have a rope around her neck, and every time she tied a necklace around it she wanted to scream. But she would never leave the confines of her room with the scar showing. She would never show her weakness.

Putting on white silk gloves, she pushed the thoughts of Athos away. He was living somewhere with his little mistress, all troubles forgotten. And she was here, still waiting for him. She knew he would never change his mind, he would never see her as anything more than a criminal, a killer, a whore, otherwise he wouldn't have tried to kill her seconds after kissing her. And she had been pathetic. Begging him to stay. She had been a fool. Athos made her a fool, more than once, but she would never again allow him to get close enough to hurt her.

Rushing out of the building she was met with rain, which further soured her mood. It seemed that the world was trying to remind her how unfortunate her life was, and that no matter how much she tried, she would forever live in the shadows. During the ride to the palace she managed to calm her thoughts, and after drinking a few sips of wine Athos evaporated from the forefront of her mind.

She made her way through the halls in quick strides, masking her anger with confidence. The Queen had asked her to come, and said she had a little mission for her that would lead her away from Paris, but the pay would be worth it. Apparently some nobles needed a little reminder of whom their loyalty was owed to. She would happily leave Paris, the city where she thought she could start anew, but instead her past caught up, in the form of her husband, and all possibilities of happiness perished. She would also gladly threaten some pompous comtes and barons, and help herself to their full purses.

Unfortunately for her, today was a wreck, and instead of a quiet meeting alone with the Queen she was ushered into an office by Aramis. The Queen was also there, but that was beside the point. Aramis was her husband's friend, brother even, and as such she tended to avoid him. He was not a bad man, simply reckless, and quite often stupid, so the fact that he was there meant that she would, in the close future, be pulled into trouble of one sort or another.

She rolled her eyes as Aramis closed the door behind her and looked at the Queen expectantly.

"I'm going to assume that "a simple mission on the outskirts of Paris" is canceled?"

The Queen bit her lip but kept her face straight.

"No, it is not. But it is postponed."

Aramis walked around to the Queen's side.

"Yes… unfortunately, there was a little incident."

She huffed and forced a sarcastic smile onto her face.

"What is it this time? Should I get someone out of prison? Or perhaps it's an incident of a more… intimate manner?"

She looked at the Queen's stomach to make her point clearer. They all knew whose son the King was, and knowing Aramis she would not be surprised if his love for women caused another "problem".

Aramis tilted his head and glared at her, a very good imitation of Athos' look of disappointment that wordlessly said "really?".

The Queen clenched her jaw and quietly answered.

"No. I would never endanger my son."

Aramis meanwhile stepped closer to her.

"This is more related to Athos…"

The moment he uttered her husband's name, she thought she would break down. As if blood in her hair, an ambush, and rain, was not enough. She didn't want to know where he was, and who he was with. She did not want to know, because she didn't want to care. The less she knew, the easier it was to forget what happened.

But she would not let her composure crumble in front of the Queen, and definitely not Aramis. He would no doubt immediately run to D'Artagnan, or even write to Athos, and tell him everything. That would bring up a lot of unwanted questions.

"As it happens, anything that concerns Athos, does not concern me."

The Queen looked confused. Which told her that Aramis must have told her something about Athos and their shared past.

Aramis walked up closer.

"This is serious…"

She turned away from Aramis and faced the Queen.

"If that is all, Your Majesty, then I shall take my leave."

She bowed her head, turned away and made her way to the door. She opened the door, but before she could pull it open Aramis slammed it back shut and blocked her way.

His eyes were wide, and he looked worried. She could see that he was tense and desperate. But she didn't care.

"Open the door."

He shook his head.

"Not until you listen to me."

She clenched her jaw, knowing that what she was about to say something that would no doubt hurt him.

"Open the door, Aramis. You still owe me for what I did."

He only narrowed his eyes, not moving an inch from his position.

"I know that. And I am not asking for your help. I am asking that you listen."

She let out a heavy breath and stepped away from the door.

"Fine then."

She turned around to face the Queen while Aramis moved around the room to once again stand by the Queen's side.

They stood there, she waited. The concern on Aramis' face was just as visible as before, and the Queen was also looking troubled by what Aramis was about to say.

Whatever it was, she didn't care.

If Athos had a child, then she would kill Aramis, for he should know better than to tell her in such a manner. He should know that she cares not. If Athos was dying then she would wait for his death and then come spit on his grave for what he did the last time they met. And if Athos was simply visiting Paris then she would most likely steal a horse and ride as far away as she could. At least that is what she told herself as she considered all the possibilities of what Aramis was about to tell her.

"Athos came to Paris."

She took a deep breath and turned around. But before she could move he continued.

"He and Sylvie had a daughter."

She clenched her fists so hard that her nails dug into her skin, right through the silk. It was all she could do not to crumble onto the floor like a heartbroken fool, even if that is exactly what she was.

Of course he had a daughter. She knew Sylvie was pregnant when Athos left. But to have it said out loud hurt more than she could have ever imagined. It felt as if the rope that was wrapped around her neck was instead wrapped around her heart. Fool indeed.

She took a step forward and placed a hand on the nearby wall, knowing well what Aramis and the Queen must think of her reaction.

"The reason they came to Paris is because their daughter passed away."

And that felt like a knife to the gut. Because as much as she hated Athos she could never see him hurt in such a way, as she had learned when she thought D'Artagnan had shot him. She covered her mouth with her hand, as she realized that she had bit her lip. The taste of blood lingered in her mouth as she forced herself to stand straight and turn back to Aramis.

"And in what fashion should it concern me?"

She raised an eyebrow and waited for Aramis to answer.

He placed his hands on his hips and took a deep breath.

"He… He told us everything."

Confused by his words she tilted her head.

"What do you mean by that?"

Aramis looked at the Queen, probably looking for moral support of some sort.

"He told us about his past, and yours as well. Everything."

She shook her head in disbelief. He wouldn't have done that. No. Not Athos. A man of very few words. Very few very well chosen words. A man who ran from his past. A man who kept his past hidden even from his closest friends, his brothers. A man ashamed of what he had done, and afraid of being considered dishonorable. Athos was an arrogant man, confident, and sure of his own righteousness. He would never change.

Unless of course something happened.

"And?"

Aramis suddenly looked embarrassed as he looked at the ground.

"Well.. he said that he was wrong to hang you. That you defended yourself from his brother."

She couldn't stop herself from snorting.

"So that's what it took him to admit that I was telling the truth all these years?"

She scoffed and turned away.

"It doesn't matter. Athos may do whatever he wishes. He could suffocate on his own guilt and I still wouldn't care. His well being is no longer …."

Aramis interrupted her before she could finish.

"We both know that it's not the truth."

She turned and glared at Aramis.

"If you know what he did to me, then how dare you imply that I still care for him?"

Aramis didn't have a reply for that, so she rolled her eyes and looked up at the Queen who had been quiet this whole time.

"Apologies, your Majesty, but if we will not be discussing my work today then I will leave."

Before the Queen could reply Aramis walked up to her and grabbed her arm.

"You don't understand it. He told everyone about it. Everyone! Including Sylvie."

She tried to pull her hand away but Aramis held on firmly and stared straight at her.

"Why should I care about what Athos told his mistress?"

Aramis narrowed his eyes.

"Because she found him with your glove! And as it appears, Athos attracts violent women, because Sylvie bashed his head with an empty bottle."

She stopped struggling against him as her eyes went wide.

The little mistress bashed his head with a bottle of wine? That must have been a sight.

Yet instead of feeling happiness or at least nothing, she felt an ugly feeling resembling fear or worry. And then hate. How dare that girl hurt Athos? No one had a right to hurt him. Except her, because he hurt her first.

That's how it was. They hurt each other, apologized, forgave, and then hurt again. Because for every ounce of love they held for each other there was an equal amount of hate, anger, sadness.

And violent? No. She had not been violent. She had been broken, and Athos fixed her, before killing her, making her who she is now. A creature of revenge. Thomas forced her to kill, but it was Athos who forced her to become a killer.

She purposefully chose to ignore the words about her glove, because that was another wound. Another wound that did not need to be reopened.

"And what do you want me to do? If I remember correctly you're the medic, not I."

Aramis let go off her arm and stepped back.

"He is in the infirmary at the Garrison, and keeps asking for a certain "Anne"."

She narrowed her eyes. Hearing her name from her husband's mouth was painful, but knowing that everyone now knew her real name was much worse. She had attempted to bury her past many times, but each time someone dug it up, and brought back things that she did not want to remember.

"Well if he's asking for Anne then he must be drunk."

Aramis bit his lip quickly before taking a deep breath.

"He is delirious actually. Parts of the glass pierced his skin and by the time we found him, the infection had already set in."

She wanted to laugh at the irony. A drunk, killed by a bottle of wine.

Unfortunately the situation wasn't overly funny.

As much as she hated Athos, she hated Sylvie much more. She would not kill her, but she would not let her hurt Athos again. It sounded awfully possessive, but she could not stop herself from hating a woman that Athos chose over her, only to be betrayed by her.

"Fine, I'll come see him. But keep his mistress away. I do not wish to wash blood out of my hair twice in one day."