Chapter 25

I could only stare at Marceau as my heart banged harshly against my chest. It echoed throughout my body and I could feel the pulsing beat everywhere. Francis stared in shock as well over the scene we both had witnessed, but Francis was the first to speak up. "Marceau?" He said, a hint of dryness in his voice.

Marceau let his arms fall to his side and allowed the maul-like weapon to slip out of his grip. It fell next to Gilbert's lifeless body that was in front of my feet. Marceau was frozen stiff as he stared down at his brother. His eyes were clouded and full of guilt. "I didn't want this. I didn't want to hurt anyone." Marceau slowly turned his head toward me, he was expressionless. A part of me wondered why he didn't want to kill Francis and I. Henry had caused Marceau so much pain and unfortunately, that pain would never go away. He could have gotten his revenge by killing one of us, but what would that do if Henry was already dead? Marceau took a small step toward me. Before I could react he untied the cloth that was wrapped around my mouth and pulled it away from me. He never looked me in the eyes, they continued to stay low no matter what he did. Then Marceau turned toward Francis. He lifted his hand up and reached it toward Francis. Francis flinched and closed his eyes as if to block his memory of what was to come, but Marceau gently pulled away from Francis and lowered his arms. "I was going to look at your arm." Francis opened his eyes and stared at Marceau. I'm sure Francis was questioning all of this as well, but he slowly nodded at Marceau and allowed him to take a look at his cut. From where I sat I could see that Francis' arm was covered in blood, but I didn't see how deep it was. Marceau used the cloth that he took out of my mouth and gently wrapped it around Francis' cut. Francis winced when the material touched his open wound. When Marceau saw this he quickly pulled back, but then he carefully reached back in and tied the material around Francis' arm. "Why are you helping us?" Francis bluntly asked as he tensed his arm. Marceau was quiet as he pulled the edges of the cloth to cover the wound more. "The plan was to get the gold and leave. I did not want to hurt you," He repeated. Marceau took a step back and walked toward the wooden desk. His movement was slow as he picked up a larger knife off the table and turned back toward Francis. When he got to Francis he lowered himself onto the floor and kneeled next to the chair. Francis attempted to back away from Marceau but paused when Marceau placed the knife onto the ropes and began to cut them.

"I only wanted to scare you both. That way you wouldn't do anything like try to escape. That's what Gilbert told me. I knew that wasn't the only thing he wanted to do to you two," Marceau paused as the ropes fell to the ground. "He wasn't the same after my wife died." He was quiet when he said that. It was like he was saying it to himself rather than us. He silently moved onto the ropes that tied Francis' arms to the chair.

"I could understand why you would want to hurt us to get revenge," Francis paused. You could tell he regretted the way he worded that, but he continued. "Why would Gilbert?"

Marceau froze at the question. It looked like he was struggling to form the words and if he said them out loud they would completely break him down. "Gilbert was in love with my wife," He laughed almost. "She was in love with as well. The only ounce of love between us was our son." Marceau looked up at Francis. "And I do not blame Henry for my son's death. For many months Gilbert had been telling me that my whole life had been destroyed. Those things I said earlier -that was Gilbert, not me. They were lines he had created and rehearsed with me. Believe it or not, all I had to do was act like Gilbert to make you think I was insane."

The ropes that restrained Francis' arms fell down to the ground, releasing Francis' hands. He immediately lifted up his right hand and put it on top of his wound, but he put his attention on Marceau. "So, you aren't going to…" Francis trailed off, afraid of asking the question we were both thinking. Marceau finished pulling the rest of the ropes off of Francis. "No, I am not going to kill you," Marceau said as he stood up and walked over to me. It felt like Francis and I both expected to die from this, as morbid as that sounded. There was no way we could have been able to escape or kill both Marceau and Gilbert. These sudden change of events surprised us more.

Marceau kneeled down in front of me and began cutting the ropes. "I'm sorry you were dragged into this mess. I truly hope the child is unharmed." I could tell Marceau was wracked with guilt and that this wasn't his idea. Gilbert had dragged Marceau down with him, whether Marceau wanted him to or not. Marceau gently pulled the ropes off of me and took a step back, giving me the space I needed. Francis and I stood slowly from our chairs. We were both hesitant as we stood just in case we did something wrong. Before I could even take a step forward Francis rushed over to me. "Are you alright?" He asked as he examined my whole body as if he hadn't seen what happened. "I'm fine, Francis." My finger was in pain but I think it was only sprained. My real worry was Francis and his arm. I'm sure he was in a lot of pain, but he was the type of person to hide it.

Marceau ignored our little reunion and walked over to the door. He slowly opened it and took a step outside. "I'll show you the way back." Francis and I looked at each other skeptically. I think we were both still in shock. This all seemed too easy and it all happened so fast.

Marceau led us out the door and into an empty field. It was daytime now and the sun brightly sat in the sky, lighting the whole field. I looked around to find stones that were piled up together and were covered with leaves and vines. They were sitting in the middle of the overgrown field. I stopped walking as I examined the stones. They looked like they were burned and were the last surviving piece of something that once was there. "Did you truly burn your home to the ground?" I asked in a low whisper. Marceau managed to hear me though, but he continued to walk past the rubble. "My whole life was in that house. I watched my son take his very first steps there." He paused, but never stopped walking. "I watched him slowly lose himself over the course of a week. Then he took his very last breath there. I did not want to see those memories any longer."

Whenever Marceau talked about his son a cold chill ran down my spine. I cannot imagine the pain he must have felt when his son died. Then he had to watch his own wife kill herself, but she wasn't his to begin with. She was in love with Gilbert, the crazed man who would stop at nothing to get his revenge against Henry. As we walked I watched Marceau walk carefully through the forest. His steps were light. You could hardly hear the leaves and branches crunch beneath his feet. I had never noticed that his black hair was tied back into a small ponytail. His bangs were long enough to be pulled back into the ponytail but they sat in the front, waving back and forth at every step he took. From everything I had learned about him, he seemed like a broken man. He had lost so much and yet he blamed no one. He wanted no revenge. No vengeance. So what did he want?

We continued to follow Marceau through the forest. Every time I talked to Marceau it felt like I should apologize for everything, but at the same time, I was conflicted if I should after what he did to us.

Marceau stopped suddenly and turned toward us. "Here we are." I looked passed Marceau to find the castle in the distance. We were coming in the way we were taken I assumed. The garden was only a few feet away from us. Since Marceau used to live so close I'm sure this plan was easy to execute.

Francis turned toward Marceau and smiled gently "Why don't you come with us?" Marceau froze and looked at Francis questionably. "Why would I do that?" He asked Francis. "What do you have left back there? Come with us and we can help you." Marceau could only stare at Francis in amazement. I'm not sure he was believing Francis. "Why would you want to help me after what I did to you?" Francis took a small step pasted Marceau toward the castle and was silent for a second. "That was not you. That was Gilbert. You could get a fresh start. Work with me and rebuild your life." Marceau only stared at Francis. Francis started walking toward the castle but he stopped suddenly and turned around. "Are you coming?" He asked Marceau. I watched as Marceau stood there speechless. I'm sure he was thinking he didn't deserve this. I was also surprised by Francis' kind gesture. Usually, he didn't invite people who tried to kill us into the castle or to help them. But Marceau was different. He had lost so much and was persuaded by Gilbert that the cause of all his pain was Henry. It wasn't completely untrue that Henry was the cause of Marceau's pain, but I'm sure Gilbert was saying it for himself rather than Marceau.

"Would I be a prisoner?" Marceau asked. He took a slight step backward. "No, you would come as our friend," Francis responded with a smile. That was the smile I had fallen in love with. He would help anyone he could, no matter what they had done. That was just the type of person he was.

Marceau hesitantly followed us and agreed to stay with us for a while and see where things went. I could tell Marceau was nervous about all of this and I could understand why. Henry kicked him out of court and blocked all of his trade. But Henry was gone now, so he didn't have to worry about anything. Francis and I would take care of him, he definitely deserved it. As we got closer to the castle I noticed that no one was on the grounds or walking in the garden. It was strange, usually are out at this time of day. Suddenly, we were surrounded by castle guards. They pointed their swords down at us and awaited orders. Marceau stood close to Francis and I as watched, wide-eyed. I didn't understand what was going on. Francis took a step in front of us and glared at the guards. "What is this? Put your weapons down." Francis commanded the men. He threw his arm down in a rage, but the men did nothing as they watched us. People began to surround the guards to see what was going on, but suddenly two guards moved aside. My eyes widened as someone walked inside of the circle the guards had created. It was Henry.

Henry was wearing loose clothing to avoid anything from hitting his stab wound. He looked angrier than he has before, but content. It was like he had finally found something he had been searching for. Marceau attempted to step away from Henry, but there was hardly any room for us to move. As Henry scanned us three his smile grew wider on his face. Then he stopped when his eyes landed on Marceau. "What is he doing here? He stabbed me." Francis frantically shook his head. "Gilbert was the one who stabbed. Marceau saved us." Henry raised his brow, obviously not believing us. "That is not what I saw." Henry motioned toward the guards. "Take Marceau to the tower." Before anyone could react Francis stood in front of Marceau, blocking the guards from touching him. "No, father. He saved us! He does not deserve this."

"Even if he was not the one who stabbed me he was banished from court. Now he is here standing here in my presence." Henry replied. Suddenly, the guards pushed past Francis and grabbed onto Marceau. They began to drag him to the castle even after Francis' plea. "Marceau!" I shouted. They couldn't do this to him. He was innocent! "Let him go, Henry!" I yelled in the chaos. Henry quickly turned toward me and glared. It sent a chill up my body. "You shall refer to me as your majesty." My eyes widened.

Before Francis and I could fight about this we were led into the castle and check over by doctors. Unfortunately, Francis had to get his wound sutured. I wanted to be with him for moral support but I was put in a separate room with a midwife that Francis had set up. He insisted that we needed to know immediately, even though we had much more important things to worry about in my mind. The midwife had asked me all sorts of questions and even did a urine test which wasn't exactly comfortable.

The door slowly creaked open and Francis came inside. His arm was in a sling that wrapped around his neck. I frowned seeing this, but Francis' eyes were full of wonder and anticipation. "Are you alright, Francis? How's your arm?" I asked as I walked toward him. Francis smiled gently and wrapped his arm around my waist. "I'm perfectly fine." He leaned in and kissed my forehead, but pulled away quickly when the midwife began to gather her belongings. "So?" He asked her. He sounded just like a child. The midwife smiled and stood up, clutching her leather bag close to herself. "The Queen is with child."

Francis' eyes lit up and he turned toward me. A smile took over his face that only grew and grew. He quickly picked me up and squeezed me tightly against him, only to loosen himself. "Sorry." He said apologetically as he pulled away. He had the largest smile on his face, larger than I have ever seen before. It was contagious. I found myself smiling because of this, but also because I was thrilled with this news.

Francis placed his forehead against my own and closed his eyes. "I'm so happy." He whispered to me.