Apolgies for being tardy tonight, things got crazy today!

Thank you all!

Chapter 15

Monsieur Isnard Ramus opened the front door of his tiny shop with a more energy than was necessary. He barely stood to Aramis' chest with white hair, nearly a finger in length, that spiked upward. It caused his head to look twice as large as it should have. It didn't help that his hair was as straight as straw, nearly as thick, and he had eyebrows to match. His beard, black and heavy, hung nearly to his chest and pointed toward his heart. Large brown eyes and an unfortunate wart near the curve of his right nostril stared back at both Aramis and d'Artagnan as they stood opened mouthed and slightly aghast. Monsieur Ramus, despite his short stature, was thick through his neck, shoulders, and his girth. His skinny legs were covered with britches that were too large, and white stockings that gathered at his ankles. His small feet were shoved into fur slippers.

"It's nearly closing time," Isnard said with a gruff but high-pitched voice. "What is it you need?"

Aramis cleared his throat and said, "We're the King's Musketeers," he paused as he watched the old man step away from the door and return suddenly with a pair of spectacles that increased the size of his eyes.

"Ah yes, Musketeers," Isnard said and motioned with his hand for them to follow. "Come in, come in, the necklace is complete — I'll be grateful to have this out of my sight — too many have seen it and desired it, and I've spent too many years working on it. I have made a change at every announcement the king made about his queen's pregnancy — which has been too many. It causes one to wonder what it is they are doing at the palace to make producing an heir so difficult." He looked over the rim of his glasses. "Coitus is not that difficult, and," he smiled, "even a bit on the fun side when done right."

Aramis snorted.

D'Artagnan chuckled but looked away.

Isnard turned, and then with a toothy smile, exhaled. "My work is the best in all of France…" he raised his hand into the air in proclamation. "My pieces can be seen on the necks of queens, princesses, and even a few princes in nations all over Europe."

Aramis raised his eyebrows, and stifled his chuckle, while d'Artagnan looked curiously at the finely crafted pieces of jewelry that lay across velvet settings atop displays. Broaches, necklaces, rings, and earrings adorned the walls, the shelves, and the stands in the room. Each piece was labeled, and each with came with its own story. It wasn't just jewels that Monsieur Ramus used for his work, but rare stones, seashells, and bones.

Isnard stepped behind a large counter and looked at the wall behind him that was covered with small drawers filled with the necessary tools and items needed to work his skill as a jeweler. He carefully removed a thin wooden box from the locked drawer of his workstation and then looked seriously at the two musketeers.

"Are you ready?" Isnard said. He licked his exposed teeth and watched both men peer over the edge of the counter as he slowly lifted the top of the box.

Atop a piece of black velvet, sat the necklace that King Louis had designed for his queen. Rounded blue sapphires the size of large coins were surrounded with small diamonds. Each piece had been carefully cut and connected with gold brackets and beads. The largest piece would lay against the base of the queen's throat and the rest, each slightly smaller than the first, would wrap around her long neck.

D'Artagnan whistled as the light reflected off the diamonds and the deep blue of the sapphires. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Nor will you ever again," Isnard said. He looked proudly at the piece and gently touched the center sapphire in one last goodbye. "The king requested this necklace many years ago… right after he married Queen Anne in anticipation of the birth of their first child — He was just a boy then, but he had a keen eye." He looked up and with a light shrug said, "When I heard of her first pregnancy, I began crafting it…" he pursed his lips disappointedly, "it has gone through several variations… not until I received word that the dauphin had been born did I complete it." He covered the necklace with several pieces of fine cloth and then closed the lid and tied it shut. "It will not come loose during your journey back to the palace." With a deep breath, he pushed the box across the counter and looked at both men. "Do not allow any harm to come to this. I do not know how many years my eyes will allow me the privilege of such… intricate work, and I would hate to travel to Paris to repair it."

"We will do our very best, Monsieur," Aramis said. He looked again around the small shop and then took the box and held it protectively within the embrace of his left arm and chest. "Are you alone here, Monsieur, or do you have family?"

Isnard curled his lips downward and frowned. "I have a daughter who still lives in Paris," he said, "she is married with eight children. Two sets of twins — all boys." He smiled proudly. "My wife passed away a few years ago. Did you know her?"

Aramis shook his head. "No, Monsieur… I didn't know her."

The old man scratched his jaw and motioned toward the door. "While I hate to be impolite —"

"How much?" d'Artagnan asked and pointed to a piece.

Isnard scratched his jaw, stepped around his workstation, and joined d'Artagnan at the small shelf. "Which one?" he asked. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and craned his neck to follow d'Artagnan's gaze.

"The…" d'Artagnan said, "the one that looks like a pistol?" He licked his bottom lip and then pulled it between his teeth when Isnard removed it from the velvet.

Monsieur Ramus chuckled, held the piece up with his index finger and allowed it to sway gently as the gold captured the light of the sun. "I made this for a woman whose husband left for war." He shrugged. "She never returned to retrieve it — I assume he may have perished." He exhaled slowly in disappointment. "I doubt I will ever know." He handed it to d'Artagnan. "Five livres."

D'Artagnan winced, chewed the inside of his cheek, and then dumped his remaining coins into his palm. "I have three."

Isnard looked at the young man and squinted. He pursed his lips and said, "How many sugared almonds do you have left?"

D'Artagnan smiled, "Nearly half, but there are some cannon ball candies in there too."

"Sold," Isnard said, took the bag of candy and immediately popped a sugar-coated almond into his mouth. With his hand outstretched, he smiled when d'Artagnan dropped the coins into his palm and then slipped the necklace into his coin-purse. "Gentlemen," he said. "It's closing time."