And the next Chapter is up for you guys, hope you like it. Reviews are welcome ;)
As always thank you to Niagaraweasel she is the best translator in the world and a awesome friend. So happy that we met on .
The cloth merchant was flabberghasted when he saw the queen at his door. He immediately began to fawn over her and Aramis gave him a disgusted look. How could anyone marry a woman like Constance to such an Idiot.
The man didn't even ask after his wife's condition, all that came over his lips were words like "oh no, how terrible, of course, Your Majesty, at your service".
Since he couldn't tell her, which were his wife's favorite dresses, Anne chose a selection herself. When they left the house, Anne huffed indignantly. "I always thought my marriage to be a torture, but this man is no better than the king. He knows nothing about his wife, he didn't even care that she was hurt. All he wanted was to impress me because I am the queen."
"Unfortunately that is the fate of all women," Aramis answered. "You can't marry for love, only for a good social standing."
"A lot of things are unfair," Anne replied, thoughtfully. Aramis helped her to mount her horse and they rode back to the garrison.
Porthos had set a rich table.
"That looks very good," the queen said. "I'll take Constance her dresses and come back down."
"A true gentleman honours his gambling debts."
When Anne entered the room, she found D'Artagnan and Constance kissing and cleared her throat to announce her presence. Both of them startled and immediately let go of each other. "Your Majesty, it is…." the youngest musketeer began.
"You don't have to explain anything. I'm not judging you and I will not say anything. Your secret is safe with me."
Quickly, the musketeer left the room, leaving the two friends alone.
"Your Highness, I…."
"Constance, I have just met your husband and now I know what you wanted to explain to me. I can understand you. D'Artagnan doesn't leave your side, he is there for you and would give his life for you, just like Aramis would do for me. We have both been bound to men who do not love us, but we were lucky that we found men who really do and who are not afraid to show it. We shouldn't let that go, even if it is dangerous.
Constance hugged her royal friend. "Thanks."
The rest of the day was quiet and after a hearty meal the queen rode back to the palace with Athos and Aramis. Porthos would join his friends at the castle come morning and D'Artagnan and Constance would follow once she was fully recovered.
"Constance!" A voice bellowed in the garrison courtyard.
Carefully, Constance got up, opened the door and stepped out into the corridor.
"There you are, pack your things and come back home," the voice roared angrily and someone stormed up the stairs.
"Bonacieux…" Constance gasped, frightened.
"Just look at you. Did you really think, if you send the queen to me I would allow you to stay with D'Artagnan?" There was a dark gleam in her husband's eyes that she had never seen there before.
He grabbed her arm. "Go inside, pack your things an come home."
"You're hurting me, let me go!" Constance tore herself away from him, although the pain in her ribs caused by the abrupt movement almost made her faint. "I will not go with you. I love D'Artagnan and he loves me."
Bonacieux grabbed her again and pulled her back into the room. "I won't let you go. Do not try my patience and my good humour, you have a good life with me."
Hastily he stuffed his wife's dresses into her bag. "He can offer you nothing, no house, no money, absolutely nothing."
"Yes, he can and it's something more important than that. Love, freedom, adventure and security. All things I have never received from you."
The cloth merchant advanced on his wife menacingly, his hands closing around her upper arms like a vise. Constance closed her eyes in fright; first Rochefort and now her own husband. Her whole body ached and she felt her legs getting weak.
"These things will not fill your belly. Now come. You will never see him again and never speak another word with any of the other musketeers."
Constance nodded defeatedly, unable to do anything else. Tears were coursing down her face.
Bonacieux roughly dragged her out of the room and down the stairs. Constance struggled to manage the steps without stumbling.
"Hey!" a man's voice called out angrily.
"D'Artagnan…" Constance whispered.
"Take your hands off her or I will kill you," the musketeer said in a sharp voice.
"She is my wife and I can treat her however I see fit," Bonacieux answered.
"You don't deserve her and I will not let you hurt her."
D'Artagnan grabbed the cloth merchant's arm and placed himself protectively between the man and Constance. Porthos and Treville immediately hurried over to help.
Porthos supported Constance and Treville stepped beside his youngest musketeer.
"I think you should go, Bonacieux. The queen has ordered that Constance is under our protection," Treville stated firmly.
"I don't love you and I will never go back to you," Constance cried out almost desperately. She was usually not the type of woman to let herself go like that, but the events of the past few days had left their mark on her.
D'Artagnan threw her a surprised look. His heart, already racing with rage, started to beat even faster, but this time with joy. She had told her husband, she had made her decision.
"You heard your wife and the captain. Constance is under our protection. Come near her and you will hang."
Bonacieux glared at the youngest musketeer, but D'Artagnan stood his ground.
"This isn't over yet, Constance. Your family will disown you. Send someone over tomorrow to pick up the rest of your things or I will burn them in the fireplace." He dropped his wife's bag and left the garrison.
D'Artagnan took the place at Constance's side. "Hey, it's alright, I'm here and I will never leave you."
He gently stroked her hair out of her face and kissed her. His heart was still racing and seeing her so sad and exhausted made him feel sick.
"I finally told him. D'Artagnan, I never want to leave you again."
He smiled at her. "And you won't have to. Come, I'll take you back upstairs."
"Can you promise me something?" Constance looked at him wide-eyed, stopping on the first step.
"Whatever you want," D'Artagnan answered.
"Don't sleep on the floor again. Get a second bed, or better yet, just a bigger one."
He kissed her passionately. "I love you."