After the night had passed, I went down to where Emilie was being kept to look in on her. All seemed quiet. When I had convinced myself to go to her previously the hallways had been haunted by her howling screams. I had not ventured further beyond the doorway. Now, however, she was resting and seemingly peaceful. She no longer howled and cursed, cried or begged for salvation. It was a relief, and when I entered with Constance not long behind me, we sat together beside her, watching over her sleeping form.
My brother gripped my shoulder gently, standing with me as together we stood vigil over the poor girl who had been lied to by her own flesh and blood. Thinking how easily Athos could have succumbed himself to his body's demand and need for the narcotics and become like Emilie, deluded and without grasp of reason, I took his hand and kissed it firmly. I was proud of his strength and perseverance, and ever grateful that he was my family. The proof lay before my eyes that not everyone was so fortunate as to the family they were born into.
Last to join us was Aramis, who enquired after Emilie's wellbeing softly as not to disturb her. "She should be herself by now," my brother answered with clear exhaustion written in his tone. He had stayed awake all through the night to tend to Emilie and help her through the traumatic experience of being weened off the drugs. "If she even knows who that is." With a final squeeze to my hand, my brother took up his sword and left us with Emilie to rest himself. I shall have to ensure I make amends for his hard work this night.
Sensing that Aramis wanted to be near to Emilie for when she awakened, I gave him my seat then stood behind him, adopting the same pose my brother had by placing my hand upon his shoulder. Aramis tenderly lifted Emilie's hand, and the touch roused her from sleep so that she inhaled deeply and blinked in a daze. "How long have I been asleep?"
"About fifteen hours," Constance supplied, all of us seemingly drained from this ordeal.
"I didn't dream once." Whispering in something akin to awe and horror, Constance and I looked to one another. Silently we agreed that we would leave Aramis to speak with Emilie, for he was truly invested in her wellbeing, the good man that he was. Brushing against his hair, I leaned forwards to look upon Emilie softly.
"We shall give you privacy, Emilie, but if you have want or need of us, we shall come swiftly." Pressing her eyes closed against her waking nightmare, Emilie nodded in acknowledgement. We left promptly and quietly, not wishing to intrude any longer. Constance found my arm and leaned into me, her curling hair brushing against my cheek as we walked from the cell.
"Will she be alright?"
"So long as she does not consume the narcotic again, but the desire for it will be strong. She has lost her visions and what she thought was a direct connection to God, I imagine she will be feeling quite lost and vulnerable, but Aramis will comfort her. She will find her feet again, I am certain." Murmuring quietly that I would go and see my brother, Constance let me go with a mind to return to Anne. We had both been away from her side for some time, but soon this farce would be entirely over and perhaps our lives might return to normality once again.
Athos was indeed resting. I found him in his room at the garrison, having knocked lightly but received no reply. Opening the door slightly, I found him sprawled across his bed, still dressed and booted. Quietly I stepped inside, going to him where I lay my hand upon his hair and brushed it aside lightly. I smiled upon him. Then, as slowly and carefully as I could manage, I pulled off his boots and removed his belt so that he might be more comfortable. I even managed to lift him enough to slide his leather jerkin free, dropping it upon the back of a chair before laying his head down upon the pillow.
All the while I hummed soft lullabies, his eyes flickering once or twice but never fully rousing. Lastly I draped a covering over him to keep away a chill before leaving, quietly closing the door behind me where I happened upon Porthos leaving his own room. His expression brightened upon seeing me, but just as he was about to call out boisterously to greet me, I rushed to press a finger to my mouth, silencing him. Gesturing to Athos's door, Porthos chuckled. "If I know Athos, nothing will wake him up once he's out. Man sleeps like the dead." Holding out his hand, Porthos invited me to come to him.
I did so willingly, and the moment my hand touched his I felt a strong tug upon my arm before I was suddenly rushing into the air and became perched within Porthos' strong arm. "He has earned the rest, believe me. Purging the drug from Emilie's body was not a gentle task. Athos stayed with her throughout, and he did not relent until finally she was quiet." Having naturally settled into allowing Porthos to carry me, I wondered for a moment whether I was more like a bird than I realised, for I often became perched upon his arm.
"Is the girl alright now?"
"In time, I hope so, but it may be a long while before she feels better than she does now. Her own mother used her for fame and glory, exacerbating a troubling illness to the point where Emilie only suffered, yet still she continued." Bile burned the back of my throat and I shuddered at the knowledge of Josette's cruelty. "I could not imagine ever doing such a thing to a child of my own." Porthos listened patiently, carrying me all the while until we were at the dining hall where breakfast was made ready.
"Some people are too selfish to care about others, even if it is their own flesh and blood," he reasoned simply, signalling to one of the boys to bring us something to eat. "You'd be a great mother someday, Madeleine." This unexpected note distracted me from my morose thoughts, bringing my attention once more to Porthos as bowls of hot, sumptuous porridge with dried fruits and nuts were placed in front of us, along with a flagon of pale golden ale, fresh bread and even a dish of butter to accompany it. Everything looked utterly wonderful, and when I partook of the simple meal, it tasted a thousand times more glorious than all the royal foods the palace kitchens prepared put together. This tasted of home.
"Do you ever think about having children one day, Porthos?" Finding myself curious, I helped myself to a fresh roll and smeared a little butter upon it, allowing time for it to melt so that it was heavenly upon my tongue.
"Well, I wouldn't mind it sometime in the future," he admitted and despite the glorious taste in my mouth, I stopped chewing for I was so focused upon listening. "Seems like the natural thing to do. Marry a good woman, share a home, have children running around…I think I'd like that one day. Only thing is, not many women would marry a soldier, and I wouldn't want to give up this life. It's all I know how to do."
"Any woman would be fortunate to be your wife, dear Porthos. These foolish women do not know what they are losing," at my compliment, Porthos flushed a little and chuckled, looking away in embarrassment whilst rubbing at his neck. "I think you would make a wonderful father." Imagining Porthos as a father was no difficult task. He was naturally protective and warm hearted. He would love them fiercely, and nothing in the world would be able to harm them. "You have time still, however. No need to wish too heavily upon things until they are due."
"What about you? Any thoughts of finding a husband, sweetheart?" Now this sounded more like a tease, and Porthos must have only intended to try and embarrass me a little for the sake of light conversation, but I answered his question seriously.
"In truth, I have been considering it of late." Startled, Porthos froze with his spoon halfway to his mouth, which caused the porridge to drip from it with a light splatter upon the table. I resisted the urge to wipe it clean. "It is unlikely that any man will find me desirable enough to wish for me as a wife, for I have few prospects and will not provide a significant dowry. That being said, there is bound to be a man somewhere who will accept a simple looking woman such as myself, if nothing else but to share companionship with, for that is what I crave. I would not want to marry a man without love, or at the very least, passion. I will not subject myself to such a match." I thought of Bonacieux and Constance, and my blood boiled at the imagery their bland, soulless marriage conjured. "But perhaps I am setting my expectations too high. I should like children one day, but for that I require a husband. I have been thinking of asking Athos to look for a match for me."
"You what?" Barking sharply, Porthos finally dropped his spoon so that it landed back in his bowl and sank slowly into his porridge. Wide eyes stared at me, and I began to wonder if I had said something insensible. "What do you mean ask Athos to find you a match?"
"Exactly as I said, it is my brother's duty to find me a husband in lieu of my father. There is no harm in trying, and I am technically a woman of status. Perhaps someone of a lower rank might accept me." But Porthos seemed to be unable to listen to anything more, for he was adamantly shaking his head in refusal and his fingers were tightened into fists.
"No, no, no, that can't happen." I blinked at him.
"Why ever not?"
"Because then you'd have to answer to your husband! You wouldn't be around no more, you'd…you just can't." Having not expected Porthos to be so resistant to the idea of my marrying someone, I frowned at him heavily, putting down my own spoon to cross my arms in affront.
"So you are saying that I must remain alone my entire life and die a spinster just so that I may harken to your every whim?" Panic started upon Porthos, a slow and increasing expression as he began to realise that he had insulted me.
"No I didn't mean it like that, darlin'. I just…you? Married? Just thinking about it gives me the shivers." Perhaps he had not meant it to sound the way he did. Porthos often spoke without thinking and never really intended harm, but I will admit, this time my feelings were stung. Suddenly it felt as if I were back in the tavern as a serving wench, listening to Porthos and Aramis discussing my looks and finding me lacking in any womanly appeal. The brutal words struck me one after the other, and all at once I felt my body contort with pain. The chair clattered as it struck the ground. I did not even recall rushing to my feet.
"I apologise that I am 'not the prettiest thing' compared to other ladies," I recollected his words and spouted them back at him, "but that does not mean I do not have every right to wish to marry a decent man and have a family of my own one day. I did not think that I was still so unfortunate looking that the idea of me being someone's wife was so repulsive to you!" The sharp cut of my voice spread silence throughout the dining hall. I became aware of all eyes turned towards us, staring as Porthos leaned away from me.
Humiliated and ashamed, I fled like a coward. A shout followed me, Porthos calling my name but I refused to answer. I picked up my skirts and ran from the garrison, sprinting beyond Porthos' reach as he attempted to chase after me. With a few twists and turns in the city streets, I shook him off me, diving behind a pillar at the marketplace to catch my breath. He was still trying to follow. I heard him shouting desperately, apologising for what he had said and promising that he hadn't meant it that way.
Gasping for air, I closed my eyes and rested my head against the cold, unforgiving stone. It was a comfort, for my legs trembled so greatly I do not think they would have carried my own weight were I to try and stand upright upon them. Porthos cried out once again. "Madeleine! Madeleine please, just come back!" Risking a look, I saw him desperately searching around, his head swivelling this way and that to try and see me. I hid myself away once more, glancing around before I moved towards a lady standing at her market stall where she sold fabrics and garments.
I paid her a gold coin for a long coat and a scarf of dark blue accented with silver. A pretty thing, and it tied neatly over my head to hide my hair, wearing the coat to hide my dress. Now altered, I stepped into view and kept my back to Porthos, picking up a waylaid basket with a toss of another coin to its owner. Then I picked things at random, moving naturally around the market to circle behind Porthos, always aware of where he searched until I was finally upon the street I needed to return to the palace. I gave the basket full of gifts to a poor and rather dirty girl, whereby her mud stained face brightened with an expression of pure joy.
Secretly smiling to her, I winked before returning to the palace, the echoes of Porthos's calls following me until they were finally silent.