What Love Is Worth, Ch. 5
As one of the final celebrations marking the end of his cousins' visit, the King had arranged for a biennale – one that would put the Venetians to shame he had declared.
Aramis paced the periphery on guard duty, avoiding the costumed courtiers. The King and Queen entered dressed as a crowned Lion and Lioness. Valentina wore fitted black and green, poised perfectly as a viper.
Christine entered and people drew breath. Dressed as the night sky, she radiated in a midnight blue gown. Small gems dotted the skirt and bodice sparkling like the stars above them, and her head was crowned with a simple silver circlet. Aramis had to look away.
Porthos eyed the marksman nervously. He had found Aramis in his apartments the night before, the rooms ransacked. In his pain and anger Aramis had destroyed his normally pristine quarters. Porthos had begged for the man to explain what had happened, but all Aramis would say was that it had all been a dream.
Christine made her way through the crowd, desperate to find Aramis. She didn't care about hiding any more. She would declare her love for him in front of the whole court, if only it would bring him back to her. She reached the terrace door and stepped outside.
"I thought I'd find you here," said Marcello as he drew up behind her. "It's convenient we came dressed to match," he said and grinned, spreading his arms to display his costume.
"Perhaps it's fate that I come dressed as a wolf and you the night sky, as I have found that the more I see of you, the more I worship you," he said softly.
"Please Marcello, I don't have time for this. I am searching for Aramis," she said frustrated.
Suddenly he grew cold. "Aramis," he growled. "That common bastard? What is it about him? What hold does he have on you? He's little more than a servant!" the angry Duke spat at her.
"Silence," she commanded, her anger growing. "I am sick of you and people like you who only see value in a title. Aramis is the best man I have known – twice the man that you pretend to be with your posturing. What do you want from me?"
Marcello stood there, his cheeks burning. "He can offer you nothing," he said.
"And I want nothing, and need nothing. Only him! Don't you understand that? There is nothing that I need if I have his love," she said.
"Are you sure about that? Are you sure he feels the same? Perhaps he has finally wizened up and has listened to the voices of his betters!"
She struck him suddenly with all the force she could muster. "Get out of my sight," she said using the command of her noble birth for the first time. He paused for a moment, struggling with his anger and then swept from the terrace.
Christine turned away from the music and the lights of the ballroom, her hands shaking as she rested them on the railing of the terrace as she tried to regain control of herself. She turned suddenly hearing the sound of someone approaching. Her breath caught as she saw Aramis walking towards her.
"Aramis," she breathed. "I need to speak with you."
"I'm sorry Comtesse, but we need to end this," he said, ignoring her words.
She halted in her steps feeling as though she too had just been slapped.
"Wh-What?" she stammered.
"It's all been a fairytale," he said, "We were deluding ourselves if we thought that this could ever work."
"Aramis, stop," she said.
"What are you doing with me? It's wrong and cruel for me to continue this silly romance," he said, his voice breaking as the words poured out.
"You don't mean that," she whispered.
He shook his head. "We were fools. You need to marry someone who can provide for you, who can support you and help you tend to your people. I can give you nothing. I'm not worthy of you," he said.
"But I need nothing," she cried grabbing onto his arm. "Just you!"
He shook his head again. He could not look at her. "Think of your people," he said. The words struck like daggers and she sank to the ground. Behind him, Porthos and Athos had entered the terrace. They stood frozen as they witnessed the devastation before them.
"I am unworthy of your love; the King would never approve of my suit. It's better that we end this now so you can find a proper match. Someone with a title and family, whose lands can enrich your own."
"You don't mean that," she said, her voice barely registering. The tears that had been falling freely seemed to dry up all at once. She had none left to cry as her heart shattered into dust.
"I'm sorry. This is the only way. Goodbye Comtesse," he said and he turned away from her. He came face to face with Athos who had leapt forward to stop him, but as he looked at the marksman he stopped. It was like looking at a corpse. Pain, and what looked like a yearning for death had taken over the man. Athos saw a flash of his former self from when he lost Thomas; he could do nothing. He let Aramis leave.
Porthos had walked over to Christine who was still sitting amid her skirts on the terrace floor. He gently lifted her to her feet and wrapped an arm around her puling her tight into his chest. He was at a loss for words. Everything about what he had witnessed was so wrong, and when he had looked into his brother's face he could practically see the man's heart disintegrating. He stroked her hair, lost for words of comfort.
"Porthos," she whispered hoarsely, "take me home."
oOo
Aramis walked blindly from the terrace, desperate for the palace doors and a bottle of wine. His chest felt as though it had been split wide open and hollowed out, the gaping hole where his heart had been now raged with a vengeful fire.
He didn't mean a word of what he said, and yet he had to say it. He had to practically kill her, kill himself, if he was going to be able to give her the life she deserved.
Because that's what it kept coming back to.
What could he, a simple musketeer, ever offer the Comtesse des Etoiles? It had been so clear for so long, he had finally accepted it.
A woman's cold laugh stopped him in his tracks.
"Oh, Aramis!" Valentina crowed, "Off so soon? Have you seen the Comtesse? I heard that she looked quite lovely tonight," she said scathingly.
He grabbed her arm and squeezed it tight. Her eyes burned wickedly and she smiled at his desperate passion.
"Why?" he hissed. "Why do you do this?"
"Because," she said, her eyes sparkling with maleficence as she saw Porthos and Christine enter the hallway. "Because it's fun," she said, stepping close and whispering into his ear.
All Aramis heard was a gasp from behind him. He turned to see his brother, eyes murderous, glaring at him, as he carried Aramis' love away from him and out of his life.
It was over. He had lost her. He knew what the scene would have looked like as Christine came around the corner: Aramis and Valentina, alone on the landing, his hand clutching her wrist as she leaned close to him. He stifled a wail as he placed that final nail in his coffin. He had lost her. He had ended their love. Hopefully now she would find someone who could save her.
oOo