As usual I was faced with familiar guests in the musketeers, and I was not disappointed when Porthos arrived with Aramis and d'Artagnan to toast to Marsac in honour of his memory as a Musketeer, electing to remember him at his best rather than his worse. I gave them their toast free of charge, ensuring the host did not see me doing so as I filled their cups. I saw to other customers as and when they called, but in between I was able to listen to the full story of what had happened and how all the pieces had come together.
Porthos was steadily growing increasingly rambunctious the more he drank, but Aramis was putting the cups away just as steadily. For once, it seemed d'Artagnan was the one pacing himself sensibly. "How was your lesson with Constance?" I called to him over the raucous noise of the tavern, filling his cup as I stood beside him. His eyes twinkled brightly.
"How did you know about that?"
"Constance tells me everything! I caught her earlier this afternoon, she was so excited about your agreement she could not contain it," laughing at this, d'Artagnan assured me that he would make an expert marksman and sword master of her yet. I was pleased for Constance. She had spent so long under her husband's shadow it was good to see her stretching her wings a little. In any case, if this was a means to encourage a little more private time between her and d'Artagnan, then I certainly would make no complaints. They were good for one another, I believed.
"Hm, Madeleine my darlin', another if you please!" Porthos requested a little sloppily, hoisting his cup straight up into the air beyond my reach as he blinked heavily with a slanted grin.
"If you hold it so high, Porthos, I cannot reach!" Giggling as he began to playfully keep his cup away from me, forcing me to jump and try to catch it, I eventually tickled him in the neck to make him squeal and conceal defeat. He had always been a little sensitive in that area, so I masterfully swept the cup from his hand in order to refill it. "Go steady, the night is still young after all." Patting his shoulder, Porthos beamed at me and reached over to take up my hand and kiss it.
"You're an angel,"
"So I'm told, now let me get back to my work," pausing to fill up Aramis's cup, I then left the table to return to my rounds. Plates of food and drinks were passed around as I cleaned up any mess that appeared, keeping the spirits of the guests jovial as best I could whilst also keeping an eye upon any brewing altercations. Usually they were easily settled if caught quickly enough, as the last thing we wanted was a complete tavern war. I had seen one once before and had walked away with a bruised eye and split lip. Athos had not been impressed, losing his temper and almost banned me from ever returning.
Tonight seemed a quiet night, however, which meant that I could keep on top of the requests with a steady murmur of conversation throughout the tavern. Occasionally a song would rise up and the noise would increase, but it ebbed and flowed according to the patrons' whims. I started to clean a now empty table, gathering up empty cups, pitchers and plates so that I could run a rag over the table for the next patrons, when I caught my name being spoken behind me. It was the table where Porthos, Aramis and d'Artagnan were sat. As usual, I could hear Porthos no matter the volume of the tavern. Alcohol usually only made him louder.
Unable to help myself, my ears naturally focused upon the sound of my name, meaning that I was able to hear what Porthos was saying. "When will you put Madeleine out of her misery, Aramis?" I heard him say and my ears instantly turned an unsightly shade of red. "The girl is clearly smitten with you. Don't tell me you don't notice how she looks at you."
"Believe me, I've noticed," forcing myself to continue with my work, I returned the plates and cups to the bar which was still within earshot of their table, meaning I could still hear them as the tavern had lulled into a soft ambiance of sound, though they did not seem to realise. I watched Porthos punch playfully at Aramis.
"So?" Porthos and d'Artagnan awaited Aramis's reply, meanwhile my stomach felt like it was twisting itself into complex formation of knots. Aramis blinked at them.
"So what?"
"She adores you, the least you could do is show her a little favour," d'Artagnan ventured to say, still the most sober of the three. "I heard you shouted at her earlier, from Treville. Is that why she hasn't looked or spoken to you all night?"
"It was for her own good, she was speaking out of turn." Now I wilted, my stomach relaxing in disappointment as I hastily snatched up another pitcher, one which was watered heavily down, to make another serving round and collect some payment from our patrons. I started from the outside and circled my way inwards, meaning that for a while I could not hear what they were saying about me until I came closer once more. They appeared to be arguing a little, no doubt teasing Aramis for my girlish affections. How humiliating.
"At least apologise to her, she must be heartbroken by what happened," d'Artagnan was saying, followed by Porthos slapping the table a little too heavily which made a loud noise in an otherwise quiet tavern.
"You, sir, need to make the first move." Porthos decided, pointing at Aramis who was beginning to sway slightly from the wine going to his head. "Sweep her off her feet!"
"And why would I do that? It would not be fair to encourage her feelings when I do not return them." All at once I felt my chest constrict upon itself, causing me to jolt and my hand jumped to grip at the spot over my heart. I had always known that Aramis did not love me in such a manner, but to hear it spoken so bluntly from his own mouth was still hurtful. "Trust me, this is a kindness."
"Bah, I know our Madeleine is not the prettiest looking thing, but she's got many qualities which are good." Now the compressed sensation dropped from my chest to my stomach, making me feel nauseous. Not the prettiest looking thing, again, I already knew this to be true, but it still hurt to hear it being said aloud, by men I cared about no lest. I carried on with my work, attempting to block out their conversation.
"That is an understatement," Aramis slurred, chuckling into his drink as I watched them out of the corner of my eye. "Even calling her plain is a kindness…she is such a…a…scruffy looking thing. A child, really. Who could be attracted to someone like that?" At this d'Artagnan grasped Aramis by his sleeve, his voice dark and grave in warning.
"Be careful how you speak, this is Madeleine you are referring to." At least I had one champion, it seemed. A lump had risen in my throat as I breathed shakily, blinking back a few tears as I continued to serve our guests and collect their coins for each drink, forcing myself to keep a careful count of everything, but I could not keep their voices out of my mind as they continued to discuss my looks.
"Admit it, d'Artagnan," shifting closer, I watched Armis sling his arm around d'Artagnan's neck. "In a city full of beautiful women…would you choose Madeleine as your lover? Or even a wife?" Then Aramis laughed. This was perhaps what hurt the most. Then, he opened that loose mouth of his again. "I have seen many an unseemly woman in my time…but to think of Madeleine as a lover? I shudder at the idea!" D'Artagnan valiantly elbowed Aramis in the chest, doubling him over as Porthos growled and waved dazedly at the air, trying to catch the fiend, but when I dropped my serving pitcher and it shattered upon the floor, all three of them suddenly looked at me.
We were caught in a stare, their eyes full of fear and uncertainty. I could practically hear the silence of their breaths being held. For a moment I froze, staring back at them as I struggled to overcome the hurt and pain of their words. Something prompted me to do or say something, so in my panic, I smiled and attempted to brush over the moment as a simple mistake. "Apologies, it slipped from my hands," quickly lowering myself down to the floor to avert my gaze, I used my apron to begin collecting the pieces. I almost began to cry, but I held them back by force as d'Artagnan suddenly dropped to my side.
"Here, let me help you."
"No!" Speaking too hastily, I snatched his hand away before it could reach for a shard. "I mean, no need. It would not do to have a guest clearing the floor of my clumsiness," I attempted to chuckle, though the sound caught in my throat. "In any case, if you were to cut your hand then I would be chastised. Please, go back to your table. Do you need another drink? I will bring a fresh pitcher for the three of you." All the while d'Artagnan observed me, seemingly trying to ascertain whether my act was a stellar performance or simply a sham.
"Did you…hear?"
"Hear what?" Blinking innocently, I looked at him directly, unflinching from his gaze. "Have you news to tell me?" I managed to arch a suggestive eyebrow. "Does it concern a particular auburn haired beauty by the name of Constance, by any chance?" D'Artagnan did not rise to my teasing, still looking reserved but eventually he relaxed a little, offering a small smile as I resumed collecting the larger of the broken pieces.
"It's nothing. Are you certain I cannot help?"
"No, I am finished, I shall fetch the broom and sweep the rest away then come back with your drinks, just a few moments, please." Holding the broken shards carefully within my apron, I brought them outside to dispose of them, and the moment I was standing in the fresh, cold night air, I allowed myself to cry. I felt pathetic and hollow, and considering all their words which I had heard them share together, I also felt unreservedly ugly. Not the prettiest. A plain thing. Scruffy looking. Perhaps worst of all, unseemly. I was not lover or wife material. At least now I knew what they thought of me deep down in their hearts. I was unattractive, therefore not an object of desire and never would be.
Forcing myself to rise to my feet, I took several deep, calming breaths then dried my face to return to work. Well. At least now I knew where we all stood.