Being unable to leave the palace for three entire months meant that I was quite out of touch with the outside world. I communicated predominantly through letters, mostly to Athos, Ninon and Treville. Often when I wrote letters to them, I would include separate letters for them to disperse to the others to be read aloud to the men as many of them could not read or write. I had promised to keep them informed of my wellbeing, and I never rescinded upon a promise. My letters also reached the hands of Aramis, d'Artagnan and Porthos, the latter of whom I had taught how to read and write myself, though he admittedly was a distracted student.
Porthos had asked me some years ago to teach him to read and write, and I had obliged him. We had first learned to read and write his own name, which he had done so eagerly and always enjoyed signing his name with a flourish of pride. Thereafter, we had addressed the alphabet, but gradually Porthos' focus and attention had dissipated. He learned enough to get by and that was as much as he desired. According to Athos's letters to me, Porthos now complained that he wished he had learned more and practiced, as he could not always read my letters to him. My brother assured me, however, that he would read the letters for Porthos if he struggled, and that this would be excellent practice for him.
I also wrote to Constance, entrusting my letters for her to Jacques the stableboy. He promised me that he delivered them, slipping them into her basket secretly whenever he saw her in the market so that no one would notice. I hoped that she was reading them, for I filled every page with my heartfelt earnestness for the renewal of our friendship. No reply was ever received, but I did not expect any. If Constance wished to send a reply, even if it was somehow dangerous to do so, she would have found a way. Therefore, I could only surmise that she truly did not wish to be associated with myself any longer and my letters were being burned, or she could not risk being caught communicating with me.
In truth, I prayed it was the latter. If Constance was being monitored and kept from us, then it could only be because of Bonacieux. It meant that he was the culprit of Constance's sudden shift in character, which would allow me to place the blame firmly upon her husband's shoulders, rather than entertain the alternative, and that Constance truly did not consider me a friend any longer. This was a notion most distressing, and so I desperately hoped it was not the case. If her husband was monopolising her, then that was a simple matter. Once I was free to move outside the palace once more, I could free her from his grasp.
At the very least, I wanted Constance to know that I had not forgotten her, and that I thought of her fondly still. It was all I could do at present. Soon I would be granted permission to leave the palace, and I anticipated returning to see everyone. I wondered if they would recognise me. In three months, I had undergone the most transformative alteration which had shocked even myself. Under the care of the queen's good grace, I ate well and rested plenty. My leisurely days as companion to both Lady Charlotte and Queen Anne meant that my body was not constantly overworked and under stress.
My figure began to grow into itself and I even grew a little in height as I received the proper nourishment to sustain myself. A womanly figure had begun to make itself known, my hips widening a little as my curves came into fruition. My once ruddy and dry skin was now smoother and clearer, soft and supple to the touch and of fair complexion. Most drastically of all, however, was the transformation of my hair. For a long time I had kept it hidden and bound under caps and cloths in shame of its thinness and ragged appearance, conscious of the missing locks and bare patches of skin.
Now, when I untied the cloth and allowed my hair to fall loose, it did so in a light ripple of waves which I had cut just below my ears. Removing the unhealthy growth seemed to have accelerated the return of newer, healthier hair. The style was unorthodox and dreadfully unfashionable, but I found I rather liked the light feel of my hair tickling my ears. I kept it hidden from the other ladies, and only Charlotte had seen it so short as my headscarf had once unravelled whilst riding in the grounds. She had complimented it, telling me it suited the frame of my face.
When it caught the light, it was no longer dull and colourless, but rather would flicker with a red-gold sheen. Whenever I looked upon my reflection, I no longer recognised the woman who looked back at me. Gone were the hollow features and pronounced cheekbones, the jarring jut of an overpronounced chin. My cheeks were fuller and the shadows under my eyes had all but vanished. I looked healthy and well fed. If not beautiful, I at least settled for this. In fact, given a little more time continuing in this manner, I might one day be able to consider myself comely.
If it were not for the scar upon my lip, I would make for a passable lady with prospects for one day finding a respectable husband. Such things were likely to never happen, but I was resolved to remain in the service of Queen Anne for as long as I was needed. I thought of Athos and the musketeers, wondering what they would think if they saw me now. My hand strayed to the pendent which was permanently fixed around my neck, stamped with the crest of the regiment. I never took it off, as I never removed the wren broach of Ninon's. Both symbols were now synonymous with my name.
When writing my letters, I had ordered a special seal to be created solely for my use, which I adopted as my personal signet. A bird viewed from its front with its wings spread wide, a wren, with the musketeers' coat of arms resting upon its breast. Every letter I wrote was sealed with that emblem, so that my brother and friends would always know which letters had come from me. I thought it an appropriate symbol. Finishing my latest letters, I signed and sealed them with the stamp bearing my crest, then left them to be collected and delivered upon the silver tray which would be taken away by one of the chambermaids.
My personal business settled, I made my way to see Lady Charlotte and attend to her, as had been my duty these past few months whilst she remained a guest of the king, albeit somewhat more than a prisoner than a guest. She intended to plead with the king for her father's release. For three entire months she had requested an audience with King Louis, only to be deferred time and time again. He was avoiding the matter, by refusing an official audience and only saw Lady Charlotte informally. According to propriety, Charlotte was unable to levy any petition to the king whilst informalities were being observed, it would have been inconsiderably unacceptable, however I had heard her distress and brought the matter to Anne.
With the queen's assistance, we had finally managed to secure a meeting for Charlotte to lodge her formal request on her father's behalf. The king, most likely still wishing to avoid a public audience and maintain a level of quietness on the matter, agreed to see Charlotte whilst he was sitting for his latest portrait. When I entered the room behind Charlotte, I had to forcibly cough to hide a laugh to see the king proudly sitting upon a pommel which was to represent his horse, elevating him high above the rest of our heads.
It was quite ridiculous, in my opinion, but I kept such thoughts to myself and daintily coughed to clear my throat, which rather helpfully drew the king's eye directly to Charlotte. "Ah! Lady Charlotte, what a delight to see you. What do you think of this portrait? I believe it encapsulates my dashing side rather well," he posed for her, whereby I once again had to stifle a laugh whilst Charlotte politely agreed that he looked exceptionally dashing. I moved aside as I glanced about the room, immediately noticing Captain Treville was also present. My heart lifted to see him, my features brightening to see him.
When he caught sight of me out of the corner of his eye, he glanced towards me. Then his entire head turned rather quickly, wearing his surprise clearly upon his face as he took in my transformed appearance. I smiled to him secretly, the corner of my mouth lifting a little higher than the other in amusement to his reaction as he too had to choke back a splutter into a cough. It appeared that, for a moment, he had not recognised me at all. There was no time for us to speak with one another, so I silently lifted my hand to brush against the pendent, which was nestled neatly over my heart, touching the crest in a motion which possessed a great deal of meaning. I have not forgotten you, it said. The musketeers are still treasured in my heart. I hoped Treville understood, and judging from his moved expression, I expected the message was received.
Turning my attention to Charlotte as the king beamed proudly down at her, I listened intently as he waved her forwards, allowing her to approach. "What can we do for you, my lady?" Seeing her opportunity, Charlotte readily took a steadying breath to begin her heartfelt plea, calming her nerves as much as possible, even as her voice trembled slightly as she spoke.
"If it please your majesty, I have come to parley on behalf of my father." The atmosphere in the room shifted drastically in response to Charlotte's statement, growing tense and apprehensive as several servants and guards glanced at one another. My eyes turned towards Anne who stood serenely behind the artist, observing the portrait as it emerged, but upon feeling my gaze she looked to me. Then her eyes flickered to the cardinal, quietly surmising that he would be our greatest obstacle, as he was also in attendance. I despised how he looked upon Charlotte with distasteful narrowed eyes. "My father stands accused of the attempted murder of the queen. For three months he has languished in your majesty's prison, an innocent man, falsely suspected." Swallowing back her nerves and tears, Charlotte lifted her head and attempted a form of bravery. "I warn you, if Count Mellendorf is executed, his many friends and family in Sweden and Prussia will not stand idly by."
"Do you dare to threaten the King in his own court?" The cardinal demanded in outrage which swiftly mollified Charlotte into meekness, fearful and woefully out of place surrounded by strangers and enemies, far away from her home and people. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and take her hand, but I had to keep to my place.
"I…I make no threats. I…I simply beg Your Majesty to hear a loving daughter's plea for justice." Again she looked imploringly upon the king, praying that her favour with him might somehow persuade him to release her father. King Louis looked at her softly, his affections evident in his gaze as he leaned down towards her, taking her hand delicately.
"You may rest assured, dear Charlotte, we will discover the truth." Seeing that this was the end of her audience, brief as it had been, Charlotte graciously curtseyed and left as swiftly as she was able. Before I followed, I looked to Anne who nodded her head, silently ordering me to stay with her. Curtseying to the king, I turned myself aside and followed after Charlotte, however as I passed the captain, I sent him a secret smile. He did not openly look at me for we could not pause to speak, but he nodded in acknowledgement and smiled in return. It was a good thing I did not linger, because no sooner had the door closed behind us, Charlotte devolved into a mass of tears and sobs. She almost collapsed, suddenly becoming weak and frail, but I leaped to catch her before she could fall and helped her to stand.
"There now, you were so brave Lady Charlotte, your father would be very proud of you," soothing her, I rubbed at her back and produced a handkerchief for her to dry her eyes. "Let us return, perhaps we had better rest for today. You have endured quite the ordeal," sympathising with her, Charlotte gripped my hand as I guided her back to her residence and sat her down in a chair by the window. I opened it for her, allowing the sunlight to stream inside with a fresh breeze to better her spirits.
"You have been too kind to me, Lady Madeleine," Charlotte sniffed, still using my handkerchief to dab at her tears and clean her running nose, so I gave her a fresh one and slipped the other into my pocket to wash it later. "The only one who has been a true friend to me."
"Not at all, my lady. I have thoroughly enjoyed your company. It is rather difficult to find another woman who enjoys horseback riding and shooting as much as I." It was true, other than Charlotte, I could not name a single lady in the entire court of Paris who enjoyed horseback riding as much as she or I. "It is refreshing to have someone who can keep apace with me."
"If ever you were to visit Hamburg, I would be glad to show you the places I like to ride and hunt," she began to say, brightening a little until that small gleam suddenly vanished. "That is, if I ever…if my father…"
"Everything will be alright, Lady Charlotte." Coming to her side, I crouched down beside her seat to wrap her hands in mine, noting that they were a little cold. "You must continue to be brave and strong for your father. He would not want you to loose hope now, would he?" Sniffing for the last time, Charlotte cleaned herself up before she straightened her back and lifted her chin, assuming the proper seat of a lady.
"Indeed, you are correct. I must not falter. My father is depending upon me." Glad to see her spirits rallied, I closed the window and fetched a shawl for her to wear, not wanting her to catch a chill. Remaining with Charlotte for the rest of the day, I entertained her with some music and songs, encouraged her to eat at mealtimes and embroidered whilst she attempted to read a book but was continually distracted by her thoughts. It was quite an ordinary day, however we were disturbed later in the evening when one of the chambermaids came looking for me. She had meekly came to my side after curtseying to us both and whispered discreetly into my ear that there was a boy looking for me but the guards would not permit him inside. He had claimed to know me and that his name was Jacques. Immediately I rose to my feet.
"Thank you Elaine, please bring me to him. Lady Charlotte? I must beg your forgiveness, I must step away for a little while to attend to a matter,"
"Of course, Lady Madeleine, I hope all is well?" Unable to answer for I did not yet know, I smiled at her and promised to return shortly. Elaine led me to where Jacques was pacing outside one of the servants' entrances, unable to go any further but looking rather pale and desperate. He was wringing his hat in his hands, and when I called to him he sprang with a yelp which sent him sprawling onto his back. He blinked at me.
"Lady Madeleine!"
"Jacques, whatever is the matter? Are you not well?" Stepping outside I reached my hand down to him, helping him back to his feet and took his hat so that I could dust off his legs from where he had fallen.
"It is Madame Bonacieux, the lady you asked me to watch for. I got your letter today, Madeleine…I mean my lady…but I couldn't find her nowhere!" Seeing that the boy was distressed, I calmed him down by having him take several deep breaths. Once he had restored his wits, Jacques reached into his pocket and handed me the letter addressed to Constance, the seal unbroken. "I looked for her like I always do whenever I get her letter, but she wasn't at home nor was she at the market, and…and I don't know if I should tell you…there's trouble going on at the barracks."
"Trouble? What trouble?" Already as pale as a sheet, all remaining colour drained from Jacques face whilst looking excessively nauseous. "Jacques, if there is something wrong then you had better tell me. First you cannot find Constance, and now there is something happening at the barracks, I cannot help unless you tell me." Poor Jacques looked as though he would much rather let the ground swallow him up rather than tell me the truth. "Jacques!"
"I cannot say it! Just…you will have to go see the captain. I can't tell you…it's too horrible!" His words were rapidly setting me on edge, a cold trepidation of fear siphoning away all warmth in my body as I gripped Jacques tightly by the shoulders.
"Jacques, tell me. Is it…" my stomach twisted mercilessly, "is it Athos?" The disconsolate grimace and sweep of tears in the young boy's eyes told me everything without a single word needing to be uttered. I fell to my knees.
"Madeleine!" Suddenly it seemed impossible to breathe, as if air had become poisonous to my lungs which caused them to burn immeasurably. In my chest my heart seemed to cease to function, growing as hard and unmoving as rock which made it impossible to feel anything but the harrowing pain of grief. My own voice tore at my throat, a strangled cry which brought several servants running to my aid. One of them turned upon Jacques, thinking him to have somehow hurt me and raised his hand against the boy, which prompted me to take action. A fleeting glimpse of reason forced itself into my mind as I saw the manservant grasp hold of Jacques by the front of his clothes and shake him violently.
"Unhand him!" I gasped, staggering forwards and thrusting myself between the two, winding my arms around Jacques to shield him with my own body. The manservant released him and retreated in surprise. "He is not to blame…please…leave him be." Perplexed and uncertain of what to do, the servants stepped back but lingered, watching closely as I loosened my grip upon Jacques who was trembling before me. "I am sorry…are you hurt?" Mutely he shook his head. "You had best return. I will follow soon. I must…I must see Captain Treville."
"Shall I tell him you are coming?"
"Yes, yes tell him." My voice rasped dryly, barely mustering the strength to be heard as I pressed my hand to Jacques face. "You have done well. Thank you." No sooner had I released him he was sprinting away, fleeing to escape back to the familiar ground of the barracks. Staggering, two maids quickly caught me by my arms and patted my hands, attempting to soothe me with concerned coddling. They helped me return inside and someone pressed a drink of brandy into my hand which I drank in a single gulp.
It set my stomach aflame, but I welcomed the sensation as it reignited my body. Thanking the servants for their care, I left them to seek the queen and beg her permittance to leave the palace grounds. I did not tell her for what reason, other than it was a matter of dire family importance. Perhaps my expression gave away more than my words, because Anne wrote a note of leave and signed it herself with her name and seal so that no one would waylay me. "I shall pray for you and your family, dear Madeleine." I thanked her breathlessly. The only further delay I made was to return to Charlotte and explain that my business would take me away perhaps for some time, and that my absence would be a little longer than I anticipated.
"But of course, if you must go then you should not delay. But are you certain you are alright, Madeleine? You look dreadfully pale, is there anything I can do for you?" As grateful as I was for Charlotte's concern, I could bring myself to admit to anything. It took all of my womanly strength to hold myself together whilst imagining every terrible event that could have happened to my brother. Illness. Injury. My heart shattered. Death. No, I could not allow myself to make assumptions. I would see Treville first and hear it from himself.