Upon the hour of the funeral for the three men killed by Gaston, I arrived dressed simply but in dark colours to show my sympathies. I looked to find my brother and the others already present, sitting together towards the back of the church. I hesitated, looking at them for a moment before moving to the other side and sitting down. Alone. Others gradually entered, and I even saw Sylvie from the refugee settlement. We acknowledged one another, even smiled discreetly, but did not speak.
She went towards the front, sitting behind Cristophe and Josephine until it was time to begin the service. From where I sat, I could hear d'Artagnan quietly murmuring, drawing my focus for a moment to ask if anyone had any idea who the thief could be as Cristophe moved to the front, passing the three coffins which bore the bodies of his friends. "We'll know soon enough." My brother answered, my ears only attuning to their voices because I knew them so well.
"Can we pay our respects first?" Cristophe began to speak, reciting from Psalms in a moving eulogy to honour the fallen. Psalms had always been some of my favourite passages, as they often brought me comfort. However I could not truly settle into the familiarity of the words, for something prickled at my back, a sense that someone was watching me. I turned, for a moment seeing nothing, until a figure moved from within the shadows. At first I could not discern their features, but gradually my eyes adjusted, and I suddenly found myself recognising the stranger we had met at the refugee settlement, the one riding the Andalusian horse.
Pausing hesitantly, I glanced towards Cristophe before rising to my feet and quietly moved towards the back of the church. The man regarded me as I approached, his face an expressionless mask, until a gentle smile slowly grew there. "We meet again," he spoke in a reverent whisper as not to be overheard as I reached him, stepping into the shadows with him.
"Under sorrowful circumstances, I regret to say." Still yet uncertain of his rank as I could not quite decide whether he carried himself as a man of noble birth or simply with an innate assuredness, I lowered myself in a small and polite curtsey, bowing my head with an elegant sweep. "It is a pleasure to see you again, all the same." My words seemed to please him, his smile deepening. The darkness deepened his features, sometimes shifting into a rather menacing portrayal when he glanced away, but it seemed to vanish when he returned to me. "Will you now tell me your name, sir?" I asked politely with a hint of a smile, wishing to make a good impression and not appear suspicious, for my instincts told me that this man was one to be wary of. I had learned the hard way that it was important to know your enemy by name and face, and if this man would one day become my enemy, I would not enter into battle unprepared.
And yet, this stranger delicately reached for my hand, still heavily adorned with elaborate rings, and bowed over it with a kiss, one that lingered a moment longer than what might be deemed proper and acceptable, but drew away just before it strayed too far into intimacy. A delicate balance. "Lucian Grimaud, my lady. I heard of what happened and financed the service. However, I did not expect to find a lady of such distinction here. Why have you come?"
"You financed the service?" As Cristophe began to falter in his reciting, I glanced to him with momentary empathy for his plight. "So it was you. I had sought to pay myself, but the costs had already been covered. You are generous, Monsieur Grimaud." He smiled again, and his eyes strayed a little across my face, distracted by other aspects of my features. "You have not asked for my name, monsieur."
"I made it my business to discover who you are, my lady." His hand still held mine, lightly resting against his fingers so that they were not restricted, but I did not draw them away. There was something about this man. Something that drew me towards him. I could not rightly explain it, but the way he looked upon me swiftly became an intoxication I could not resist. It had been a long time since someone had looked at me as if I were…desirable. In truth, I do not think anyone ever had. They had looked at me with love, affection, tenderness, but not desire. Lust. I received the distinct impression that, were I to give any indication that I would allow it, he would snatch me up and capture my lips to devour me entirely. My pulse fluttered heatedly.
"Oh? I did not know I garnered such interest." I teased softly, inwardly scolding myself for behaving in such a manner whilst in the house of God and at a funeral service.
"I was not disappointed. There are such rumours and tales about you, Comtesse de la Fère, that I could not tell which were true and which were false." As Aramis rose to assist Cristophe in completing the psalm. I tilted my head to regard the man before me, Lucian Grimaud. There was a darkness about him that I could sense, but rather than retreating, I found myself drawing nearer to it, despite the senselessness of such a notion.
"Perhaps you might ask me directly and discover the truth for yourself." This time when he smiled, he revealed his teeth, shining pearls in the dark shadow. Leaning towards me, Grimaud turned so that his mouth was directly next to my ear, murmuring in what I could only describe as a sinful seduction.
"I look forward to discovering all your dark, terrible secrets, comtesse." I shuddered, a reaction that was quite beyond my control. When his fingers brushed against my hip, I thought I might swoon. "Until next time, my lady." Then he was gone, as if melting into the shadows themselves. For a moment I stood in a stupor, a delightful tremor coursing through me until I remembered to breathe. My lungs flooded with air, easing the scorching pain of their thirst, and I pressed a hand to the thick stone pillar to recover myself a moment.
The soft murmur of Aramis's voice filtered into my addled mind, reminding me of where I stood and who might be watching. I blushed for shame, apologising with a prayer for my unseemly behaviour before quickly returning to my seat as Aramis continued for Cristophe. "A thousand men may fall at your side. Ten thousand at your right hand. But none shall come near you. Because you have made the Lord your refuge, and the most high, your dwelling place." A beautiful verse, and I began to settle into the peaceful words but the serenity and reverence was shattered by the doors bursting open, and Captain Marcheaux of the red guards swanned inside with several men at his back. Aramis stared with a flare of outrage. "This is a house of God!"
"These men are to be arrested by order of the Duke of Orleans." Everyone rose at once, standing against the red guards. The veterans' fury seemed ready to burst at the seams, gathering as I too rose from my seat as Josephine's sobs echoed into the church's rafters.
"You really have no shame, do you?" At d'Artagnan's remark, Marcheaux sneered without remorse.
"The shame belongs to whoever stole from the duke." I glanced to the men and the veterans, lingering at the periphery to try and think how best to solve this without it devolving into a bloodbath on God's own doorstep. "But since they will not come forward, we'll flog everyone to get the truth."
"You will do no such thing!" Crying out in sharp protest, I started forwards with every intention of slapping some sense into that villainous creature, but several of the veterans deftly jumped to defend me when several guards stepped in my way with their hands moving to their swords. My hand rose quickly, halting the men before they could do something reckless, eyeing the two guards in front of me. "I warn you now," my voice rang clear and true, commanding their attention as I stood my ground. "If you touch me, you will lose the offending hand." They wisely lowered their hands from their swords.
"It is Orleans who should be flogged!" Cristophe suddenly roared, pushing his way to the front with Leopold close behind.
"And his bastard brother." Drawing my eye towards Leopold for his crude statement, I made to scold him lightly, to try and diffuse the tension in the air. Movement from Marcheaux diverted my gaze, however, and before I could understand what was about to happen, he fired his pistol at Leopold. All at once, hell broke loose. I screamed, bursting forwards and throwing myself into the fray as Leopold fell, attempting to rush to his aid as everyone else bellowed and raged. I grasped at his shoulders, another veteran helping me to keep him upright, but he was already gone. The bullet had struck straight through his heart.
Kneeling on the cold stone slabs, I stared at Leopold, unable to comprehend this. Only yesterday we had shared a drink together, he had flirted with me shamelessly, made me laugh with his bawdy jokes and terrible singing. Now he was dead, and the man responsible was behind me. An overpowering urge to kill Marcheaux took hold, hammering itself into my mind like a nail beaten into wood. I started to rise, thinking to take my dagger and drive into his own heart, watch the life drain from his eyes and curse him for the monster he was.
I would have done too, had Treville not stormed inside and bellowed over the riotous noise, commanding everyone to stop. Freezing in place, half risen from the floor, I returned to my senses and the bloodlust quelled within, allowing me to sink back to my knees beside Leopold, holding his hand in mine before gently closing his eyes. "Withdraw, captain." Turning upon Marcheaux, Treville turned his quiet rage upon him, even as he did not immediately obey. "I am your minister, and I order you. Withdraw." Finally he went, but not without scoffing with derision.
Once they were gone we laid Leopold to rest alongside the others, everyone managing to hold themselves together until the funerary rites were observed, but then Cristophe stormed away in a frenzy and there was nothing any of us could say or do that would have stopped him. He and the remaining veterans returned to the tavern, intending to take the battle to the palace itself and find their own justice. My first thoughts went to Anne and little Louis, and I did not wait for the others to decide what they were going to do. I ran from them, sprinting to my horse and vaulting over her rump to expertly land in the saddle, gathering the reins and kicking her into a swift race back to the palace. Upon my return, I discarded my cloak and Cecila promptly caught it, folding it neatly over her arm as she hurried after me. "Where are the queen and the dauphin?"
"The dauphin is in the gardens, with Governor Feron and the Duke of Orleans, my lady. I believe her majesty is in her own chambers." Blanching in horror to think of the prince with the Duke of Orleans when a maddened mod of veteran soldiers were after his head, I immediately made for the gardens.
"Is the king not with the dauphin?"
"No, my lady. He is still resting." Cursing under my breath, I ordered Cecila to bring word to the queen that her son was with his uncles and not the king. Without wanting to startle her or cause alarm, I knew that this would be enough to bring her outside where I could then have cause to take them both away from the duke, somewhere safe. Their welfare was my sole concern in that moment, so I hastily dusted myself down with Cecila's help before she ran to convey my message, then strode into the gardens.
I discovered little Louis playing with two nursemaids, riding a pony stick and laughing as he chased the two ladies whilst galloping. Thankfully, his two uncles seemed to be keeping a fair distance, displaying no real interest in the boy, so I steadied myself and recollected my manner before stepping into the sunlight. It was a little while before little Louis noticed me, but when he saw me approaching, he dropped his toy horse and called out in such an endearing manner the sadness of the day seemed to simply vanish in an instant. "Lady Madeleine! Lady Madeleine!" Chuckling, I knelt myself down and prepared myself for the tackling embrace.
His little body crashed against mine but I welcome the feeling as young Louis squeezed with all his might, seemingly pressing all the terrible feelings out of my body as I held him in my arms. "Little highness, you give the most wonderful embraces, did you know that?" I told him sincerely, holding him for a little while longer. This was what I needed. The presence of something pure and precious to wash away everything else, seemingly painting the world in bright colours where they had previously faded into dull, muted tones. "What are you doing here all alone?"
"Papa said to play with uncles," Louis lisped slightly, pointing to Feron and Gaston to show me.
"Ah, well they are not doing a very grand job of entertaining you, are they? Come, little highness. Shall we play together? I think if you mount your noble steed, you can catch me before I run to that bush!" Offering him a challenge, little Louis readily agreed and raced to fetch his toy, carefully stepping one leg over the wooden pole before mimicking a horse's neigh. "Here I go!" Lifting my skirts a little, I dashed towards the bush I had pointed to, but slowed myself enough so that little Louis had time to race after me.
I circled around him, laughing and urging him on until finally his hands grasped at my skirts, pulling me to a halt. "Catched you! I catched you!" Beaming, I tickled at his waist until he was giggling, praising him for being so swift. He wanted to play with his wooden sword then, so the two nursemaids held the shields and allowed him to practice striking against them whilst I sat upon the grass, cheering him on and pointing to where he should go next. During this time I noticed a figure walking around the outside of the lawn, watching us. Aramis. My eyes followed him for a while, observing him until he stopped under the shade of the trees. He remained turned towards us, and I knew he could only be there to look at Louis. Anne had also arrived, speaking tersely with Feron and Gaston before she too must have seen Aramis, for she made towards him.
I said nothing, only continued to play with Louis as he rushed towards me with arm outstretched for another embrace, sprawling himself across my lap and rubbing his face into my skirt to wipe his nose. Amused, I sat him up and pulled a handkerchief from my pocket, having him properly blow his nose clean then scrunched up the fabric to tidy him. "Might I join your play, nephew?" Announcing himself in a sickly voice which churned my stomach, Gaston swaggered towards us. Louis looked at him uncertainly, then drew closer towards me, hiding himself as Gaston smiled. "No need to be shy. I am your uncle, the Duke of Orleans. We are family, your highness." He proceeded to bow, and out of courtesy which I had taught him, Louis did the same.
"I did not think playing with children to be something of your taste, duke." I noted coolly, thinking of Cristophe and the others and how they were coming for the duke. Not that I expected they would make it onto palace grounds, but I would not risk the prince's safety. Such things had happened before.
"Was I speaking to you, wench?" So crude was his manner that even the nursemaids gasped audibly, Gaston's smirk flickering with malice and cruelty. "Stand aside. I should like to spend time with my beloved nephew." I remained seated, Louis perched upon my lap seemingly with no inclination to move. "Did you not hear me? Perhaps you are more imbecilic than I first imagined." It took a great deal to swallow my pride and suffer the insults, but I would not raise a fuss in front of Louis. I turned to the prince, jostling him lightly to have his attention.
"What say you, little highness? Perhaps your uncle the Duke of Orleans can play the villain, and you will be the handsome knight who saves the maidens from the evil duke's tyranny," I suggested and Louis brightened at the notion, eagerly agreeing. "Very well then, highness. My fate is in your hands, defend me well against the villain!" Now presented with a new target, I took no small amount of pleasure in watching the little prince hack away at the duke's legs with his sword, forcing him to jump and dodge lest he receive a bruising blow. It was thoroughly entertaining, and no less than he deserved.
I enjoyed the entertainment for over an hour until a messenger came hurrying towards me, bowing before kneeling down in the grass and whispering in my ear. Immediately my blood ran cold. I betrayed nothing, nodding once to signal that I had received the message to allow the messenger to hurry away before rising to my feet. "Little highness, it is time to go inside now. We do not want for you to grow too tired now or catch the sun, do we?" Yawning to agree that it was time to end our outdoor play, I had the nursemaids take him inside.
Gaston seemed glad for the reprieve, and I glowered at him whilst wishing I could take that wooden sword and beat him about the head with it. He returned my look of disgust before limping away. That was the last satisfaction I took before turning to attend to the message which had been brought to my attention, one that chilled the blood and set my fears alight. Porthos and Treville had been taken hostage by the veterans, and now they were threatening to execute them unless the king met with their demands. I went silently, all the while screaming with a desperate plea inside my head for this day to simply end.