Once again, thank you all for your awesome comments! I love reading where you think the story is heading... some of you aren't too far off. Sorry I'm a little late today. It's been another crazy day.
Enjoy these next two chapters...
Louis paced from the windows that overlooked the hunting grounds behind the chateau to the massive bookcases that lined the walls of the grand hall. Lanterns hung lit from ornate sconces placed throughout the room to allow for the best lighting during the evening hours. A fire blazed in the massive stone fireplace built of marble and granite, which was the focal point of the room. The travertine floors and a large handwoven rug of reds, blues, oranges, and browns extended nearly the length and width of the space, only allowing the very edges to expose the gray and white stone floors.
Louis had been born here, and here is where he was most comfortable. Though he loved the palace in the heart of Paris, he felt most at home here, within the presence of his father's influence of textiles, artistry, and opulence.
Aramis stood near the double doors that led to the courtyard. With a hand resting on the hilt of his sword, the other at his waist, he admired Treville's patience with the king. Aramis admired the man's patience, tolerance, and his ability to bring logic to moments of frantic panic and tribulation.
"I should have stayed… I should be out there!" Louis stopped suddenly and angrily pointed toward the doors.
Aramis swallowed. "Captain Treville and the cardinal are working —"
"Stop with your patronizing," Louis snapped. "You do not know what it is like to be in my situation!" He spun suddenly and returned to his pacing. "She is carrying my child! The Future king of France!" He looked at Aramis and then paused in front of the fireplace and felt the warmth of the flames on his skin.
"Athos will do everything in his power to protect her," Aramis said. He wished it was himself that was with her, protecting her, being her support while facing the enemy. He knew Athos would risk his own life to get Anne to safety, though not out of love, but of duty. That was the difference between them. Aramis loved her… he loved everything about her, and the more he was with her — the more he saw her — the more he wanted her. But he could never have her. She would never welcome him home after a long day fighting, protecting, or serving France and her king. She would never stand over a hot fire cooking for him. He quirked a gentle smile. Not that he would want her to, but she could try.
Louis huffed and said, "I admire your devotion to your friends, Musketeer. I also know your limitations… one man against an army of any size will not end well." He paused and muttered. "And Anne is in the middle of it."
Aramis swallowed and watched Louis rub his face and take a seat at the small table near the fireplace. With his shoulders slumped, his feet kicked out before him, he looked like a defeated man… a defeated king.
"I've known nothing else…" Louis whispered. "I've never been a part of the people I lead, and I wonder how well they know me… would they care their queen has been taken?" He looked at Aramis. "Or would they celebrate? Had it been my father," he looked toward the fire and paused for a long while, "had it been my father whose queen had gone missing… the people would have rallied." His tone was unfamiliar, uncertain, and overcome with emotion.
Aramis pulled his eyebrows together in consideration. "She is their queen —"
"She's Spanish…" Louis shifted himself forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "Though she's very giving… her devotion and kindness are only known by a few." Louis looked at the cuticles of his fingers and pulled at a hangnail. "The people are fickle… they're impatient."
"Sire?"
"I want to know the moment any news arrives — no matter how devastating. I will not be hidden away like a lunatic, chained and caged in the bowels of your or anyone else's perception of me. I must know if she survives… or," he sighed, swallowed, and glanced away from Aramis, "or if she died."
Aramis nodded, and said, "Of course, Your Majesty." He bowed and turned toward the doors.
Louis cleared his throat and said, "Find a physician… Dr. Lemay should have arrived already. The cardinal suggested a physician be available…" he paused, caught his breath in his throat, and then exhaled slowly, "for Anne's condition."
"Right away, Sire," Aramis said, and quickly left the room.
Louis watched him go. Despite the warmth of the fire, he shivered and rubbed the backs of his arms before leaning back once again to look at the flames that danced. Hot coals fell in clusters beneath the firedog. The glow of the cinders morphed from reds to pinks and finally to variations of gray hues.