Thankfully I was not forced to sacrifice Aramis and d'Artagnan to save myself from harm. Upon announcing that the king had granted Emilie an audience, a roaring cheer of jubilation swelled from the gathered crowds and Emilie had fallen to her knees to praise God. We stipulated that the only requirement was that Emilie was to come herself with no one else, which Josette was reluctant to allow, but there was little other option. It was Emilie's faith both in Aramis and myself that we would ensure no harm came to her which convinced Josette to release her, but made a point of vowing to burn Paris to the ground should anything become of her daughter.
It was a relief to leave, Emilie now safely delivered into our care, though what was to come next would be difficult and perhaps even painful for her. My thoughts dwelled upon dark days, when my brother had once partaken of such narcotics when drink became insufficient to drown his sorrows. It had been a hard time on us seemingly with no end in sight, no light to comfort us, but driven by one of his drug induced rages, Athos had frightened himself back to his senses. He had almost brought me harm, throwing bottles and furniture about our old dwelling, where splinters and glass had cut into me.
When he had seen the blood after awakening from his dazed stupour, small as it had been, Athos had sworn never to touch the hellish substance again. He had kept his word, but purging his body of the desire to consume had been just as harrowing as the rage itself. Knowing what was in store for Emilie, I was torn between wanting to support her and fearing to watch it happen. There was still time until the decision had to be made. It was perhaps most difficult of all when time came to betray Emilie's trust. When she arrived at the palace, she gazed upon it with innocent, wide eyed wonder. She was brought all the way inside, towards the king's audience chamber as she marvelled at the sights about her amidst reconfirming her belief that God was with her and had chosen an extraordinary life for her. That is until Rochefort had her arrested.
Listening to her screams and bellows of treachery caused true pain in my heart, flinching with every sound as the red guards took her away. I…could not follow. My brother and Aramis went, but I could not bring myself to go. A miserable sense of betrayal soured my mouth, guilt twisting like a cold knife in my gut. This was for her own good, yet still it did not change the fact that it was a dishonourable method we had use to trick her. "You alright darlin'?" Noticing my distress, both Porthos and d'Artagnan lingered with me as I rested myself against the stairs, not caring for decorum as I sat myself down for I had grown lightheaded.
"You had no choice, Madeleine, it had to be done this way," consoling me with understanding, I felt d'Artagnan sit himself down beside me and naturally place an arm around my shoulders whilst Porthos stood guard in front, both of them seeking to comfort me.
"And yet it feels such a rotten thing. Emilie trusted me, she said as much, and I betrayed her."
"Its for her own good, love. She can't live the rest of her life being drugged without knowing. The sooner she knows the truth, the better. She'll forgive you once it's over with." I prayed Porthos was right, for I did not like to think of Emilie never forgiving me this affront. I liked the girl. The sweet purity of her smile was enchanting, and although these drug induced visions were convincing her to herald a war against Spain, there was no true badness in her. If she could, I imagine she would have much rather overturned Spain in a peaceful, blood free manner. All vile contempt and warmongering seemed to stem from the mother, Josette, which in turn infected the masses.
After sitting for a while, my head cleared itself and allowed me to stand once more. The men fussed over me, helping me rise and wanting to ensure that I was alright, so I waved them off with mirthful chuckles. I had duties to attend to since it would be some time until Emilie was lucid after the purging. Until then I would not be needed, therefore I decided to go to the prince's nursery to see him. Considering my low spirits, seeing little Louis always brightened my day. I changed my attire so that I was not dusty from the road, quickly changing so that I could hurry to him all the swifter.
Entering the nursery which was light and airy, a refreshing simplicity compared to the complicated nature of the outside world, I happened upon Rochefort himself leaving. Immediately my focus narrowed upon him, wary and apprehensive in his presence. "Comte de Rochefort," I greeted cordially, but only because I must. Instantly his sharp gaze dropped upon me and he halted, which was not my want.
"Ah, Lady Madeleine. You seem to be absent a great deal of late. I trust all is well?"
"Indeed, sir. Thank you for your concern." We stared at one another, Rochefort waiting for me to say something more and I refusing to do so. Eventually he gave up his hope and spoke further.
"Considering you are one of the queen's most trusted and favoured ladies in waiting, I hope your attentions have not diverted themselves elsewhere when they should be focused upon her majesty. She depends upon you a great deal, it seems." There seemed to be a hidden intent behind his words, but I could not quite grasp at their true meaning other than his insinuation that I was distracted and ineffective in my duties. A powerful slight, but I did not take it to heart.
"Her Majesty has many duties and tasks for me, sir, and I also devote my time to the dauphin. The queen is gracious and wondrously kind, and allows me time to rest to ensure that I do not overexert myself. If you find me absent, it is because the queen has commanded it so." Satisfied that I had responded in such a manner that betrayed nothing of the true nature of my disappearance from the palace, but also put Rochefort in his place for dare assuming me to be lacking in dedication. "Now if you would excuse me, Lady Marguerite is due a rest from caring for the dauphin, and I cannot be late to relieve her." Dropping a swift, final curtsey I strode away from Rochefort with my head held high.
I sensed his gaze burning upon my back, but I did not turn or falter. I would not give him the satisfaction, but rather I wondered what he had been doing here in the first place. Entering the nursery, I discovered Margeurite to be quite out of sorts. She was trembling whilst gripping the dauphin's cradle as if to keep herself upright, and when I looked upon her face it was as pale as chalk. "What did Comte de Rochefort say to you?" Knowing immediately that he must be the culprit, I gently brushed my hand to her hair and moved it behind her ear, noticing the unshed tears she was desperately fighting to restrain. "Did he hurt you, Marguerite? Has he put hands upon you?"
"No, nothing like that, Lady Madeleine…" her voice was barely a whisper, breaking as she struggled for a gasp of air. "He was only looking for her majesty." Not wanting to speak any further on the matter, Marguerite turned aside to fold away the sheets and blankets. I watched her steadily. For a moment I lingered by the cradle, reaching my hand inside to let little Louis grasp my finger as he gurgled sweetly, invoking a natural smile upon my face before I looked back to Marguerite with concern.
"Marguerite," I called to her, and her hands stilled in her work. "If the comte has threatened you in some manner, or has done something to you that you are too frightened to speak of, then you may confide in me." Glassy eyes rich with unshed tears looked at me, crippled with pain and sorrow. A pulse of empathy struck within my chest, heart crying out to her in mournful agony to see her in such a manner. "You may depend upon me, Marguerite. If you need protection, then I shall ensure that you are not harmed."
"I thank you for your kindness, but there is nothing you can do."
"Perhaps I might surprise you," attempting to jest lightly, I wanted to encourage her, to reassure Marguerite that she could trust me. If Rochefort had threatened her in some manner, then whatever he wanted from her had been something worthy of his attention. Otherwise, he would never have looked upon simple ladies in waiting such as Marguerite and I. The only reason he took note of me was because Athos was my brother, and Rochefort seemed just as adamant to destroy the musketeers as Cardinal Richelieu had been. "If you cannot speak to me, then perhaps Aramis…"
"He would not concern himself with my silly affairs. He is much too busy and I…am not important enough for him to share his time." Astonished by her words, I wondered if perhaps something had happened between the two. "Forgive me, I know he is dear to you. I meant no disrespect, but I realise now that he does not care for me the way he cares for you."
"Aramis is a man capable of a vast cavern of love and affection which spreads effortlessly and equally from one person to the next, it is simply his nature," I found myself saying whilst all the more concerned for Marguerite. "If he has offended you then I can only apologise on his behalf, but do not dismiss him so readily. If you ask for his aid, he will gladly give it." Margeurite did not respond and I did not press further, but I hoped that she would consider my words. Lifting little Louis into my arms, I held him close over my heart and took a turn about the nursery, relaxing into his scent and warmth whilst thinking over what Rochefort might have done to Marguerite.
There were no visible signs of harm, but clearly she was rattled. My best assumption would be that he had threatened her in some manner, but for what purpose I could not be certain unless Marguerite revealed it to me. It could be anything. Rochefort was irritatingly unpredictable and his actions sometimes left me in utter confusion. His devotion to the king and queen appeared genuine, especially towards Anne, bordering upon inappropriate, but he never stepped over the line. He disliked the musketeers, but I presumed this simply to be because he had once been the cardinal's man. I sighed softly, placing a kiss against the crown of little Louis's head.
Even in death the cardinal still had a hand in palace affairs.