Chapter 7
today my friends, we have a joyous occasion planned for this chapter… Milady and Sylvie meet…. fuck yeah
Also, has anyone else watched House of the Dragon? because I did, and it was epic! (Tho for real Daemon Targaryen reminds me of Rochefort, and it's weird, but I'm loving it. They're both toxic af, but also badass…?)
Sylvie pov
Her hands shook. Hard. And she didn't even know why they shook. Was it anger? Was it guilt? Was it fear? She couldn't figure it out.
She had been so angry. She had never been so angry in her life. Not even when her daughter died. And Athos, she could have never imagined how angry she would be at him. When she met him she thought he was an honorable and chivalrous man that upheld justice, and fought against evil wherever he saw it. But the world turned out greyer than she thought, and it turned out that one of the best men she had ever met turned out to be an abominable man. A drunk, who tried to kill his wife numerous times. A heartless bastard. Further proof that all nobles were arrogant, selfish, and cruel.
Every time she looked at Athos all she could think of was the way he looked at the glove. As though that glove would bring him salvation. And the way he talked about love. As though what he and his wife had was love. But then who was she to talk about love when the man she believed she loved, and who loved her back, turned out to be nothing but a mask. He had admitted himself that he loved her as the mother of his daughter, and now she felt as some sort of mistress. A whore. And she hated him for it.
Her thoughts were cut short when the door to the room where Athos lay opened and the doctor walked out. She practically jumped out of her seat.
She was angry at Athos, but she did not mean to do what she did. She had thought herself incapable of such violence. But he had provoked her. His words were so sickening that she had been unable to hold back. When the bottle collided with the side of his head she thought he would stumble and maybe even hit her back, but instead he collapsed, and she ran away.
She came to Constance eventually and explained what occurred, and when D'Artagnan and Porthos found Athos he was still unconscious. Which brought them here, to the Garrison infirmary. At first Porthos tried to keep her away from Athos but D'Artagnan allowed her to sit nearby. At first she cried, afraid of what she had done, of what Athos made her do. And now her tears have dried up, and instead the anger set in, the same way the infection set into Atho's wounds.
He would not wake up but kept murmuring his wife's name. She tried to sit there, but at some point she left his room, and hadn't had the strength to go back in again and listen to him beg for his wife. She was there, by his side. Their daughter had just died. And all he could think of, even unconscious, was his wife.
Athos' friends left while the doctor looked him over, but Constance stayed by her side. She now sat nearby also waiting for the doctor to say something.
"Will he be alright?"
The doctor let out a heavy breath and looked up at her.
"If the infection doesn't spread he will heal soon enough."
She quickly glanced at Constance and then looked back at the doctor.
"When will he wake up?"
The doctor bit his lip slightly.
"It is hard to say… He received a blow to the head after all. I presume you are his wife?"
She stopped to consider and Constance stood up, about to say something when the door flew open.
They all froze as a woman walked in. Wearing a pink dress, decorated with no doubt expensive lace and pearls, her hair was carefully arranged on her head, and beautiful jewelry covered her neck. She walked with long quick strides exuding determination. Only her face betrayed the perfect picture of elegance; her eyes narrowed and chin raised. She was quickly followed by Aramis, who looked more unsure than she had ever seen him.
The woman stopped not far from Constance and smiled charmingly.
"How wonderful to once again see you Madame Bonacieux!... Oh… my apologies! Madame D'Artagnan."
Constance glared at the woman angrily but kept herself composed.
"Milady de Winter."
The woman shrugged her cloak off and turned towards Aramis, completely ignoring Sylvie.
"Well? Where is he?"
While the woman looked at Aramis expectantly, she realized what Constance had said. So this was Milady? Athos' wife. The woman that had tried to murder Athos more than once, as well as his friends. She did not look capable of any of that. She wasn't tall, very slim, and looked like she had just come from a ball at the palace, in a dress like that.
"You are Milady?"
She did not know what she expected, but the woman's smile disappeared as she turned to face her, and she dared to look her up and down, the same way any noble looks at peasants.
"Yes. And you are Sylvie."
She didn't nod in response, already hating the woman that stood in front of her. She looked like a delicate doll that could fall and break at any given moment, but she also looked fierce. And most importantly beautiful. Her dress accentuated all her curves and her long neck, and made her look graceful.
The woman smirked slightly.
"Athos and I discussed you during our last meeting."
She recognized it as a jab, meant to provoke her. How could Athos love such an arrogant woman? In what way was this Milady better than her?
Aramis stepped between the two of them before things could escalate, and pulled Milady towards the doctor, who looked at the whole encounter with confused eyes.
Milady tilted her head and stared at the doctor.
"I wish to see Athos."
Before she could stop herself she found herself pushing through Aramis and Milady.
"You have no right to be here. He is better off without you."
Aramis was about to intervene, but Milady shut him up with a raised hand and turned to face her.
"Really? From what I hear it is you who should be kept away."
She clenched her jaw as she looked at her devious smirk. Aramis pushed Milady's hand away and faced the doctor.
"Is he any better?"
The doctor nodded.
"Yes. However I would suggest limiting the number of visitors."
He looked pointedly at Milady. Who clearly saw it as an offense. But her smirk didn't disappear, instead it turned into a full grin.
"Yes I think that is a great idea. Then I shall visit him first."
Aramis visibly rolled his eyes but didn't protest.
The doctor narrowed his eyes.
"And you are?"
Milady stepped closer and extended her arm to the doctor.
"Anne d'Athos, his wife."
The doctor kissed the back of her hand but then looked at Sylvie, confused.
She looked at the scene in disgust. If what Athos said is true then this woman was just like her. Born in poverty, hurt by nobility. But here she was like she was one of them. Huffing loudly she turned to Aramis.
"We are at the Garrison infirmary, you can't keep me away from him."
Aramis shook his head.
"No, but I agree with the doctor. We should not visit him all at once."
The doctor bowed his head and left, while Milady opened the door and walked in.
She looked at Aramis and at Constance. She could see by their expressions that they both knew what she was about to do. And she knew that they couldn't blame her for it. So she followed Milady into the room.
Inside, Milady was already sitting on her knees by the bed, holding Athos' hand. When she walked in and closed the door, Milady did not turn, instead focused all her attention on Athos. She felt awkward in the room. But she could not bring herself to trust Athos' wife alone in a room with Athos.
Walking to the other side of the bed she sat down onto the chair and looked carefully at Milady and Athos. She watched as he whispered her name. She watched as the woman ran a hand through his hair. And the way he relaxed under her touch. They truly looked like a married couple. Except they had both done such unforgivable things that made this scene look perverse.
Milady then turned to look at her.
"I was surprised to hear that you bashed his head with a bottle."
Her eyes flew wide as she stared at Milady.
"I am sorry about that. I was angry, and didn't realize what I did until it was too late."
Milady raised her eyebrow and curled her lips into a slight smile.
"Is that so?"
This time she couldn't stop herself from standing up.
"You know nothing! And how dare you question me when you are the one who has tried to kill him more times than you can count."
Milady looked surprised by what she said but kept her smile on her lips.
"Actually only three times. And only once with my own hands."
She shook her head in disgust but Milady kept smiling.
"I held a knife to his throat…"
Not turning her gaze away, Milady ran her hand from Athos' forehead to his exposed neck.
"And you know what he did? He begged me to do it."
Her hand moved from his neck to his chest.
"His childhood home was burning around us. And he just lay there pulling me towards him."
That is when Milady's hand opened his shirt and found its place right where his heart is.
This was wrong. This woman must have been the reason why Athos was like that. Bewitched by a vicious slut of a woman.
She knew that the woman was provoking her. She was infuriated by her. Her appearance, her words, and her hands, going places they shouldn't. She glared for a second before walking around the bed to where Milady sat.
Without thought she grabbed the woman's hair and pulled her up and away from Athos' bedside. Milady didn't even shriek, instead gasped, as her hands flew towards her head. She let her go and pushed her away. Milady found her footing and turned to glare at her.
"Aren't you the one who just spoke to me of violence?"
The woman's mocking tone made her even angrier.
"I lost my daughter. I will not lose Athos. Not to someone like you."
Athos was still in love with his wife. But as wrong as it was, she could help him heal. She could fix him. She could help him see the truth, after all he had been fine before their daughter died.
Milady let out a humorless chuckle.
"Someone like me?"
She clenched her jaw.
"You betrayed everything you are. You work for nobles, you act like them, but they will never see you as one."
Milady in return didn't look angry or shocked.
"That is where you are wrong, my dear. When I married Athos I became the Comtesse de la Fère. Nobility. So you can stop with your petty insults."
She froze and stared at Milady.
"The only thing petty here is your obsession with Athos!"
Milady tilted her head.
"Not exactly an obsession. At least not as much as your desire to eradicate all nobles."
She was about to say something about how nobles were all the same. How they used people, ruined their lives, saw them as nothing but dirt, but then the door burst open and D'Artagnan ran in.
He must have heard Milady's last statement as he was glaring at the woman. His hands were on his waist, near his sword and pistol.
"Athos is unconscious, has a fever, and all you can think of is arguing."
Milady rolled her eyes.
"Poor little Sylvie decided to pull all my hair out."
D'Artagnan stared at her and then looked at Milady's disheveled hair.
"I was simply trying to pull her away from Athos! At first she just held his hand, but then she started running her hands through his hair, then his neck, chest and lower…"
D'Artagnan immediately walked over to Milady who just looked annoyed.
"Lies."
D'Artagnan tilted his head and looked disappointed at Milady.
"Unfortunately Milady you have lied too often for me to believe anything you say."
He grabbed her hand and began pulling her towards the door. Milady simply scoffed and followed him, looking more bored than anything. But before the door closed, the woman turned her head to face her, and sent a chilling glare in her direction.
And for the first time she felt uneasy.
It was petty, what she did. But she couldn't stop herself from thinking in what way Milady must have corrupted Athos.
Now, he would heal, and she would apologize, and then he would apologize. And then they could leave Paris once again, continue their lives, and have a family once again. It would not be the same, but with time Athos would become a good man.
She sat down by his side, where Milady was sitting and took his hand in hers. He stirred slightly, and turned his head away slightly. His lips parted as he exhaled deeply and once again whispered "Anne".