D'Artagnan could hardly wait to taste food. Fencing with Porthos and Aramis had struck him up with a ravenous appetite. The three friends were walking home together. "You are skin and bones, lad." Porthos muttered, poking D'Artagnan in the ribs.
"Oui! Stop that!" D'Artagnan smacked his hand.
"Becoming groomed into a musketeer is supposed buff up a man's physique. But look at you. Still the same underweight warrior as when you first arrived in Paris last week."
"Have you not noticed?" Aramis hinted. "He hardly eats more than necessary."
"Why is everyone suddenly so obsessed with my dietary habits?" D'Artagnan snapped. "I am growing fatigued of your company."
"Ahh. Testy as well." Aramis smiled knowingly.
"Not yet. But I can go there, my dear comrades. You will find it wiser not to press your luck."
"Yup. He's pining." Porthos pronounced. Aramis nodded.
"Pining most pitiably." Aramis surmised. D'Artagnan rolled his eyes and brusquely marched away from between the two of them and made his way ahead of them.
Planchet, Felice, and Athos were awaiting them when they arrived. D'Artagnan didn't feel as ornery after he got some food in his belly, improving his mood. He had a warm bath in his room while Felice had her sign language lessons with Athos. He didn't see Felice until they were settling in for bed. D'Artagnan was exhausted. It had been a long day of training.
"Charles, I must tell you something possibly favorable for you." Felice told him happily.
"Really? And what is that?" D'Artagnan yawned, easing down on his back with his arm wrapped behind his head.
"Charles, pay attention! Constance came into the bakery today!"
D'Artagnan suddenly looked up at her, his eyes wide with hope then dissolved into sadness. "She did?" He asked quietly.
"Yes. I spoke with her about her engagement."
"And?" D'Artagnan replied flatly.
"She doesn't love Monsieur Bonacieux." Felice said.
"Sh-she doesn't?" D'Artagnan immediately sat up.
"She told me herself, Charles. I believe she still holds feelings for you."
"You really think so?" D'Artagnan's eyes lit up.
"I do." Felice smiled warmly. D'Artagnan lay back down, sighing contentedly and began humming to himself. Felice shook her head.
"I thought you were tired out." She teased.
"Who's tired?" D'Artagnan beamed.
Captain Rochefort walked into the Cardinal's war room where Milady was drinking tea while Richelieu went over documents-hence the love letters from Buckingham to the queen-. "Captain Rochefort." Richelieu nodded. Rochefort bowed.
"Cardinal. Milady." He responded in a husky voice.
"So, Rochefort, what news have you brought?" Milady asked coyly, batting her emerald eyes.
"Seems the queen's little bird is becoming rather chummy with the Gascon baker." Rochefort said.
"And what of the Gascon lad?" Richelieu asked.
"Was occupied filling his vocation as a musketeer trainee."
"Good. Best it stays that way." Richelieu huffed. "Buckingham shall arrive in four days. That is when we make our move. Keep an eye on the little bird. She is her majesty's personal maid and closest confidant. Best make sure her majesty does not fill the girl's head with any suspicions."
"Affirmative, Cardinal." Rochefort nodded. "I have men with eyes like hawks."
"Good. Thank you, Captain." Richelieu dismissed him.
"Very good, Cardinal. Milady." Rochefort bowed and departed.
"Well, we know that the Gascon baker is closely knit with D'Artagnan and his fellow musketeers." Milady remarked. "I trust we are not adjusting the plan?"
"Not necessary. Let the children have their fun. Just make sure that you have Buckingham's 'baggage' on board when you accompany him back to England." Richelieu insisted.
"Of course." Milady smiled. "One thing: has your eminence conceived the best way to lure the baker here? After Rochefort's 'repulsive' behavior back in Meung, she will never come to the palace alone. No doubt, she has told the musketeers of the incident, and they will not easily let her loose."
"No need to lure her here. We simply arrange a little 'accident'. Madame Raebourn is a respected woman with a thriving business. People well off are prone prey to poor thieves, and homeless vagabonds. In the midst of an investigation, it would be most unfortunate if Madame Raebourn's apprentice suddenly found herself in-say, complete oblivion."