Musketeer's Daughter:Unanswered Riddle

Chapter 15: Falling Ill

Ysabeau sat in still discomfiture. This was the most asinine thing ever. Why? Why did she allow such idiocy to occur? Dread pumped cold within her bloodstream. Facing the King and his court along with dancing would surely do her in. They would catch her for the fraud she was. Perhaps, while Andrién was not looking, she could steal away with his uniform and guard the walls? That she could handle. Anytime.

“Guillotine, here I come.”

After a day’s travel, they rested at a nearby inn, and awoke early the next day. A crazed mix of relief and terror tightened her gut as Andrién announced their arrival. Relief, because the roads would no longer jostle her about; he had assured her they were best for travel before spring because thereafter, would be muddy. Terror, because the sprawling Château de Fontainebleau crested the vista in all its majestic glory. From the vast gardens to the flanking of the many boastful buildings. What a conflict.

Her head soon floated high, trapped by the ceiling of the coach, her breaths stabbing fast. No, she could not do this. She could not. They would soon discover her deception and hurl her into their dungeons—wherever the King hid them.

“We are here.” The footman opened the door with a click, invoking from her a small cry.

Andrién stood there, his gloved hand out. “Ah, it looks like you have seen a ghost.”

“Might as well, for I will no sooner be discovered and killed.” Her throat stuck to her tongue and she coughed. “Andrién, why the insistence of bringing me hither? How is it that I, a mere girl, would be welcome at such a grand place?” She kept to herself, avoiding Andrién’s assistance and not alighting the coach, either.

“A very wise man once said, ‘Une cour sans femmes est comme un jardin sans fleurs.’” His eyes laughed.

“‘A court without women is like a garden without flowers.’” Her lips pulled into an artless grin and out slid a giggle. “François Ier.”

“Oui, even the great King Francis I foretold the future and saw the very one.” He tilted his head and let his gaze run their course along her extravagant gown.

“That still does not tell me why you insist—” Could she back out now? The thought of alighting the coach and making her way up the grand stairs shaped like a horseshoe made her insides twist.

“Like the fleur, every lady deserves the chance to bloom and share her beauty to all. Come, ma niece, it is time for you to make your grand entrance.”

“What?” Her heart tripped from her teeth and down to her pointed toes. She peered over his shoulder and stared at the many ladies who made their way across the wake with heads high, gowns fanning about them like some fancy pastry. “No, I cannot. Please do not make me do this. Please, I beg of you.”

A smile crossed his lips, never reaching his eyes. “No more. Step out and allow me to escort you into the château.” Andrién’s voice was just a whisper, his hand hovering for hers. His companions stood by, faithful as always, their ravenous eyes ready to devour her.