15. Truth
Ramon reached Jacqueline first, pulling her into a brotherly embrace. "I knew it!" he said triumphantly, "I knew we were family when I saw Arcelia's cross. Dios mío, I have a niece!"
Siroc got her next, giving her a slightly awkward hug. "Thank you for listening. I want you to know that you're just like a sister to me."
Away from the crowd, Charles spoke to his son. "So this is the girl?" his tone was slightly amused.
"Yes, and I still do not hold her to the promise," d'Artagnan told him bluntly, on the guard for his father's disapproval.
"You sure know how to pick 'em, my boy," Charles said. "At least we know she can keep you in check; that sword of hers is just as sharp as her mind." When d'Artagnan looked at his father in astonishment, Charles merely patted his son on back. "I'd better go kiss her while I have the chance."
D'Artagnan smiled as his father walked up to Jacqueline and kissed both of her cheeks. She turned a bright red, still not used to the fact that the Legend was a real man of flesh and bone.
René joined d'Artagnan by the wall. "I guess I have you to thank for taking care of my daughter all this time," he began.
"I think it was the other way around, sir," he said honestly. "She takes pretty good care of herself and everyone else." With a moment's hesitation, d'Artagnan spoke again, "Sir, I'd like to ask your permission—"
"Granted," René smiled at him. "I may have only known my daughter for less than a day, but I'm not blind; I see the way she looks at you."
Just then in perfect timing, Jacqueline looked over from Charles to smile at d'Artagnan. "Go get her," René prodded. D'Artagnan did not need to be told twice.
Isaac and Olivier also stood back, reminiscing about the events of the past twenty years over glasses of wine, compliments of the King. "Did you ever think it would turn out this way," Isaac asked.
"Not on my life," Olivier replied. The two Musketeers grinned as they watched young d'Artagnan and Jacqueline sneak out of the room.
"To the next generation of Musketeers!" Isaac toasted, clinking his glass with Olivier's before draining it.
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The Queen had granted each of the tired Musketeers a room for the night, the least she could do for them saving her son. Jacqueline led d'Artagnan into her loaned chambers. "Who would have thought this would ever happen?" he asked as the door clicked shut behind them.
"I know!" Jacqueline exclaimed, spinning foolishly around the room with her arms in the air. "Mazarin's taken care of; I'm pardoned; and all of us are like one crazy family."
D'Artagnan put on his roguish grin as he caught her in his arms, wrapping them around her waist. "No, I meant you taking me up to your room."
Jacqueline gave him a sharp look, but it dissolved as she started laughing. She could not stop—the relief at being free of her secrets made her giddy. She threw her arms around his neck and looked up into his eyes as the laughter subsided.
"Remember the last time you saw me in a dress?" she asked innocently.
"Yes, as a matter-of-fact I do recall saving a damsel in distress a couple of days ago," he replied nattily.
Jacqueline bushed a hand through his hair. "I didn't tell you the truth about what I was doing… I wasn't playing dress up; I was meeting someone—"
"A someone male?" d'Artagnan broke in, jealously creeping in to his voice.
"Actually, yes. It was Brother Antoine," she said teasingly, using one hand to reach down and pick the cross off her chest. "I had him researching this." She frowned. "Gerard died for this little piece of jewelry, and I figured that I owed it to him to try and solve its riddle. It worked out strangely, didn't it? I lost the last member of my old family and found a whole new one because of this little scrap of gold."
D'Artagnan leaned down to kiss her, and she did not refuse. He pulled back after a moment. "While we're confessing things and all, I'd like to get something off my chest."
Jacqueline leaned back a little. "What?" she asked suspiciously.
"It's nothing, really; you're going to laugh when I tell you…" d'Artagnan let out a forced laugh.
"Charles Arnaud d'Artagnan!" she said sharply.
"How did you find out my middle name?" he asked, shocked.
"I asked your father. By the way, what sweet irony that your initials spell 'cad,'" Jacqueline explained. "Now stop trying to change the subject, keep talking."
"See, I used Siroc's potion that attracts women…" Jacqueline nodded for him to go on. "And I sort of used it on you, but I did not to take advantage of you; you have to give me that," he cringed at his defense.
"Like you don't get enough attention already, you go after me with a potion?" she practically yelled. "You are a pathetic man, d'Artagnan." She smiled. "But I wouldn't have it any other way. Nothing can spoil this night." She tilted her face up for another kiss.
It was longer before they broke apart this time. "You didn't tell me what you were doing out so late that night I ran into you," Jacqueline declared.
"I was with a woman," he savored the sour look on Jacqueline's face before continuing, "my great aunt. I received a summons to her residence about a family emergency only to find a room full of young, eligible, and rich ladies that kept me late into the evening. She's been trying to marry me off for years; apparently my father didn't share his 'promise' with anyone else.
"Speaking of the promise…" D'Artagnan fished in his pocket and pulled out a ring, holding it up so she could see it.
"Princess Tatiana's fake diamond?" Jacqueline wrinkled her nose.
"I was going to get you my mother's ring, but I was detained from getting there. Besides, that ring symbolized my parent's marriage, and I would never treat you like my father did my mother. This is only until I can get one just for you," d'Artagnan finished.
"A promise ring, then?" Jacqueline asked, eyes looking into his.
"If you'll still have me," d'Artagnan replied sincerely.
"Yes, of course I will," she said gleefully. D'Artagnan slipped the ring on her finger, and she set her hand on his chest to admire it. A mischievous grin spread across her face. "I have always had a thing for men named Charles…"
