The Prize, Ch. 3

The King rose bright and early, intent on setting out on a hunt in the great woods.

Well, bright and early for a king, anyway. It was mid-morning when he finally set out with Treville and his musketeers.

"What a fine countryside this is," said the King. "Most tranquil. The man who marries the Comtesse will be fortunate indeed. It's quite the acreage to manage, plus the taxes, the village – quite too much for the Cometesse to manage on her own," he said.

"I believe," Treville said, "that Christine is managing exceptionally on her own."

"Yes, yes, Treville. I know that you're partial to her, you sly devil," said the King with a wink.

"I respect her, sire, as an uncle would a favourite niece," said Treville with a smile. "She has been a great benefit to the garrison and has proven herself to be quite resourceful and capable."

"But the Comtesse should marry," the King insisted. "I say, I doubt I've met a finer woman in all my life. Would you not agree, Aramis?" he asked with a slight twinkle in his eye. The marksman was startled at being addressed.

"It is not for me to comment on the Comtesse's desire to marry," he said, awkwardly.

"How about you Athos?" the King goaded.

"I must agree with Aramis, Sire," he said.

"And I must insist you answer," said the King.

Athos sighed slightly. "I have known the Comtesse since childhood. She has a fine spirit, a great mind, and an independence, which is admirable. She is a more than adequate leader of her people on her own. She is no fool, and will only marry for the most profound of loves. The man who is able to earn her heart will be fortunate beyond measure," he said with a small smile, his eyes flashing at his brother.

"Indeed," said the King with a smirk. "Fortunate indeed. It appears that she is a woman whose beauty and virtue are in such a battle for supremacy that she has all my musketeers tongue-tied," the King laughed.

"I believe we've found the tracks of a stag, your Majesty," D'Artagnan interjected, changing the subject and allowing Aramis to breathe once more. Porthos drew alongside him and gave him a slight nudge and a wink. Aramis smiled back weakly.

"Excellent D'Artagnan! Gentlemen! We hunt!" he said as they made their way deeper into the brush.

oOo

It was nearing noon. Anne and Christine had spent a relaxed morning reading in the parlour, and were now seated out in the fragrant garden for their mid-day meal discussing the recent activities at court and the progression of the Queen's pregnancy.

"I have greatly missed your company. It has seemed like ages since I have had someone I could speak openly with," said the Queen.

Christine smiled warmly. "I am sorry for that, your Majesty. It was my duty to be with my people for the Spring planting," she explained.

"I quite understand," Anne replied. "I feel as though there is much that I have missed," she said casually, "for example, how long have you been in love with Aramis?"

Christine blanched at this question, then reddened instantly, causing the Queen to laugh.

"Is it that obvious?" she asked breathlessly.

"Well," said the Queen, "It is obvious that he is madly in love with you at any rate. He couldn't look away from you all evening. I think in a court setting, you have both been exceedingly discreet in hiding your love. I had no idea until I saw you together yesterday. Here though, in the intimacy of your home, I'm afraid your love is tangible. It is enviable," she said to her friend, reaching out to take her hand.

Christine gave the queen's hand a small squeeze. "Then I will admit to you, that I do love him. With all my heart."

"And I am exceedingly happy for you. Aramis is a good man, clever and honourable, and one of the best men within the regiment. You are very well suited... And I believe that I am only to be "Anne" while here," she said teasingly

"Thank you, Anne," Christine responded with a small smile. "I hope the King views it the same way you do…"

"Despite some of his influences, Louis can be quite modern in his way and is a firm believer in love. I know it may not always seem like it, but he is well aware of the service of his musketeers. He too will know that Aramis is a good man," the Queen said thoughtfully.

Christine smiled once more at the Queen. "It feels so good to tell someone," she said with a laugh.

"I'll admit," said the Queen, "I had some suspicions that you were plagued by some romantic malady when you fled Paris after the biennale. To be honest, I thought it may have had to do with the advances made by the Duke of Mantua. He is still in Paris you know, though his sister has returned to Italy."

At this Christine blushed again. "That was part of my reason for leaving," she said. "Marcello told me he loved me. He asked me to marry him," she admitted, "but my heart was already given to Aramis, long before Marcello and his sister arrived in Paris," she said. She then began to recount the entire story of their love affair – the meeting in the market, the fire, and the entire ordeal with Marcello and Valentina, her flight from Paris and their reunion, and the confirmation of their love.

At the story's end, the Queen had tears in her eyes. "I am overjoyed for you, my dear friend. Your love sounds like a fairytale!"

Christine smiled. "Truly, I did not expect love like this to exist. Now if only it were so easily accepted by the King and court...Aramis is not of noble birth…"

"That should not matter! Would you love him any more if he had a title?" the Queen asked.

Christine laughed, "I would love him just the same if he were a pauper on the streets. He is a musketeer. He fights for good and the innocent and the crown, and I love him for it. I would not change a thing about him."

"Then that should be all that matters," the Queen insisted. She smiled brightly at the Comtesse, squeezing her hand tightly. Her expression clouded over suddenly as she gazed over Christine's shoulder. "Were you expecting company?"

"It can't be these silly competitors of the King's so soon," she said turning in the direction the Queen was staring.

There, astride his horse, was Marcello, the Duke of Mantua, marching towards them. He started when he saw the Queen and bowed deeply.

"Your Majesty!" he said, "Well met, my Queen, Comtesse. I was not expecting to see you here, your Majesty."

"Nor should you, Marcello. Our reprieve from Paris was done in secret. What are you doing here, my good Duke?" the Queen asked politely.

Marcello reddened slightly. "In faith your majesty, I set out to beg the Comtesse to return to Paris. The city has been dull and desolate for far too long without her presence."

The Queen's eyes widened as the Duke bowed again. Christine seemed to have been struck momentarily dumb. "The King is not here at present," the Queen said in the awkward silence that followed. "He is hunting with his musketeers."

"I can take you to join them," said Christine, jumping to her feet and finding her voice at last.

"I would be most appreciative," he said smiling and bowing to her.

Christine cast one last panicked look at her friend before heading towards the stables.

Reaching them, she called to Victor to ready her horse. He led Philomena out by her harness.

"I'm sorry mistress, the King insisted on riding Pegasus for his hunt. I thought it a good idea as Philomena startles easily at gunfire when in groups. Peg is more steady on a hunt," he said apologetically.

"That was wise of you," she said smiling at the boy whose ears reddened slightly. "Can you please inform Cookie that the Duke of Mantua will join us for dinner? Your Grace, will you need accommodations?"

"That won't be necessary. I have acquired a room at the inn," he said with a smile.

With that she mounted her horse and they exited the stables.

oOo