Chapter IX

Elise was terribly nervous. She kept smoothing out the front of her dress, and trying to check in one of the windows if her hair was still holding up. Aramis was aware people were always nervous when they met a monarch for the first time, but the young girl had barely slept last night. What had started as an idea to comfort her was beginning to become quite the opposite.

"Calm down," he eventually suggested, coming by her side. "There's no need to panic. She's not going to devour you."

"I know, but I can't help it. What if I make a fool of myself? What if I trip and fall?"

"Then I'll simply have to help you up again. Nobody has perished from tripping before and you will not be the first."

Elise touched her hair once again, and Aramis grabbed her hand, keeping a firm grip on the young girl so she would stop messing with her head. She found some comfort in the touch. He looked so sure of himself, so at ease in this big Palace that she envied him. Of course, he was used to working in this place, he was used to its ways and its people. It was part of his duties and he may have actually talked to the Queen and the King many times. She wished she could be as comfortable as he was, simply watching the rain patter on the windows. The weather was quite dreadful outside; there was a small pool of rain starting to form under Aramis's feet. His cape was soaking wet but he had not taken it off. Elise liked the blue of the Musketeers' capes.

A door opened behind them; she caught her breath, not daring take her hand out of Aramis's. Instead, she squeezed more strongly.

"Everything will be fine," he whispered before turning around. There were only the Queen and her two ladies-in-waiting. Aramis had seen these girls a hundred times, but he was not sure he knew their names. They were so plain and discreet, nobody paid any attention to them.

"Your Majesty," he bowed his head as he always did, taking off his hat. They shared a small smile. "Allow me to introduce Mademoiselle Elise Beauchamp, Captain Tréville's niece."

Elise finally turned around, her eyes down. She curtsied so low, Aramis indeed had to help her back up. The Queen could not help but notice the way their hands were twined.

"Your Majesty."

"My dear Elise, I have heard terrible things about your misadventures. I send you my deepest sympathies for your loss."

"Thank you, your Majesty."

"Will you sit with me a moment and keep me company?"

"It would be a great honour. Thank you."

The Queen walked towards a sumptuous couch which took an entire corner of the room. There was a small table next to it with many cakes and some refreshment on it. Elise hesitated, unsure about where to sit. She knew hardly nothing about the royal protocol. Was she supposed to serve the Queen? Was she supposed to sit quite close to her or on the contrary as far away as possible?

"Do not be shy. I am not known for my cruelty toward my guests. I'm certain Monsieur Aramis can confirm this."

"Of course, your Majesty. Don't be afraid. I'll stay right here. Nothing will happen to you." He smiled to encourage Elise who eventually went to sit on the couch. The Musketeer was aware that despite her apprehension to be so close to the Queen, she was always frightened that another attack would happen. She was in a place unknown to her, where she barely knew anyone except him. You could not blame her for being uneasy.

Aramis waited idly by the window the entire time the audience lasted. It seemed like forever to him. There was nothing to do but stand still and try not to listen to the women's conversation. The two guards standing by the door seemed quite fine with their duty, but they were more used to it. It was a torture for the Musketeer to do nothing.

The Queen enjoyed her conversation with Elise even though the girl remained rather shy. But after all, she was used to people being reserved and cautious when they talked to their monarch. It was a nice distraction to meet someone new who had so much to say about the fine King's Musketeers. It was impressive how often Elise would glance at Aramis, silently making sure that he was still in the room. Anne doubted her guest was even aware of it.

They eventually parted ways an hour or so later, and Aramis breathed the fresh air deeply as soon as he and Elise were outside. To be completely honest, she was glad it was over. She had loved meeting the Queen, yet it had put a great strain on her. She felt exhausted.

"Was it so unbearable for you?" she asked, putting on her still wet cape. It was only raining lightly now. They were going to walk back to the Garrison.

"You have no idea. Standing still and not doing anything is the worse that can happen to a soldier."

"You must be bored out of your mind when you have to guard the Dauphin at night."

"Indeed, but it has to be done." He thanked his natural ability to lie easily. "I hope you enjoyed your audience a little?" he asked, changing the subject.

"The Queen does not resemble anything I have heard. I wish there was someone back at home with whom I could share what just happened to me." She sighed.

"You have a friend in Paris. I'm sure Constance would like hearing your tale."

"You're right. I believe my life is in Paris now. I simply wish circumstances were different."

"Is staying with us such an hindrance?"

"Absolutely not, this is not what I meant," she added quickly, her cheeks getting pinker. Her eyes stayed resolutely on the merchant stands they were passing on the street. "I did not think I would find the company of Musketeers so..."

"Delightful?" he offered. "Inspiring? Marvellous?"

"I was going to say...comforting."

"Oh, I'll take that, too. We live to make your life better, Mademoiselle."

Elise was too embarrassed to say another word for the rest of the walk. It was true that when she thought of it, the adjectives he had used applied to her feelings as well. It was unsettling for her. She barely acknowledged Porthos and d'Artagnan who were practising some moves in the Garrison courtyard. Instead, she dashed up the stairs to disappear inside. The Musketeers gave puzzled looks to their friends.

"What's with her? Did something go wrong at the Palace?"

"Not at all, but I fear she is not used to being teased."

"What did you say to her?" Porthos rolled his eyes. His friend would never change.

"Nothing dramatic, I swear. I merely wanted to cheer her up, but she has not yet grown accustomed enough to us to properly enjoy it."

"Nevertheless, I think you should tone it down. You know I could not care less about all your adventures with other women except when it falls on me to save you from furious husbands. But she is the Captain's niece. I'm not sure he would appreciate it if you broke Elise's heart."

"That's one scolding I would like to see," d'Artagnan chimed in. Aramis threw him a dark look.

"Who said anything about breaking her heart?"

"She likes you," Porthos stated pointedly.

Aramis rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. He did notice it, too. He had been the one taking care of her wounds which had led her to spend much more time with him than the others. She may actually just like him because of this. Wasn't it typical to take a fancy in a person you saw like a saviour?

"It will pass as soon as the Captain is back and he finds her more appropriate lodgings. Now, let's go find us some wine. You're starting to sound like my mother."

########

Later that night, Elise was in her room, trying to focus on her book. There was hardly anything else she could do to keep herself busy in this place. Sometimes, she wondered about what would happen to her once her uncle was back. Before he left, it had been decided that she would stay at the Garrison where she would have good protection and would lack nothing essential. What would become of her after? Her uncle lived here like the other Musketeers. She had no other family with whom she could stay. One thing was for sure, she did not want to end up in a convent. What other options did she have left? She had some cooking skills, she could sew a little, she could write and read, but it was not enough to earn a living on her own. Besides, she was not sure Tréville would allow it.

She closed the book and put it on the table. There was no chance she could concentrate on the poetry with so many thoughts on her mind. Her shoulder was itching under her sleeve. According to Aramis, it meant that she was healing in a perfect way, but he had forbidden her from scratching the scar. Once, she had done it in her sleep, only to wake up with blood soaking her bed clothes. He had given some sort of ointment to calm the fire under her skin.

Elise rubbed it absent-mindedly, Aramis now taking up most of her thoughts. It was a distraction she had not expected, one she was not prepared for. Sometimes, she actually felt rather stupid. She was only a girl, knowing almost nothing of the world, and he was a soldier. Judging by what she heard around the Garrison and what she remembered, he was a great soldier. And women liked him a lot. Leave it to her to become infatuated with the most popular Musketeer. It was foolish to imagine he liked her back merely because he spent much time with her.

However, no matter how much time they spent together, alone or with the others, she realized that she knew little about him or his life. He was very quiet went it came to his personal life. Once or twice, she had caught him toying with the necklaces around his neck, but he had stopped as soon he noticed her watching. Some other times, while the others were joking and laughing, he would just stare in front of him, not a hint of joy on his face. He seemed sad and concerned as if all the problems of the kingdom were on his shoulders. It was not the attitude of the reckless man people described when they talked about Aramis.

Elise sighed, clutching the blanket to keep warm. The weather was definitely chilly for late April. The rain was not helping. Unable to sleep, she decided to leave the room and walk around the empty corridors. Most the Musketeers were either some place else on duty or out in town. Sometimes, she felt like she was alone at night. The quietness was greatly appreciated to calm her busy mind. However, tonight did not appear to follow the same pattern.

She heard heavy steps coming up the stairs as if someone was running and a door banged loudly. Curious as ever, she walked in the direction of the racket. Horses were heard in the courtyard as if a a battalion was being assembled. Although when she stepped outside on the balcony, she realized her assumption was a big exaggeration. There were three Musketeers mounting horses, and only one which was distressed by the thunder and was making anxious noises.

There was another roll of thunder and Elise retreated inside, grateful for the security of the walls. A door opened to her right and she came face to face with Porthos. He did not see her and ran straight into her, toppling her to the ground.

"So sorry, Miss. 'Did not see you here. Le' me help you up." Without waiting for her answer he grabbed her hand and pulled her up. There was so much strength in his arm that her feet left the floor for a couple of seconds. Feeling dizzy, she caught the nearest wall to steady herself.

"Wishing you goo'night, Miss." Porthos tapped his hat and left her.

"What's with him?" she asked Athos who was arming his pistol while walking.

"Porthos? He's drunk, and not at all fit for a new mission. But we've been summoned to the Palace so he does not have a choice."

"Something's happened?"

"Nothing that should worry you. I've received word that the King has taken ill so we are reinforcing his security. In my experience, criminals often take advantage of weak moments to attack. You will be safe here. You should go back to your room."

Rubbing her back to ease the pain, Elise walked back to her tiny room, wishing once again to be back home where life was quieter and less eventful.