Musketeer's Daughter:Unanswered Riddle

Chapter 46: Lady in the Drawing Room

The cassock failed to keep her warm. It did not help that fear mocked her, thus, pinning her with biting cold. Ysabeau trembled, longing for Mathieu and Andrién. It was because of her, he would meet his demise.

"Oh, Andrién—Papa . . ." she whispered the words. How Mathieu loved him so. "It is because of me, the King seeks you. I fear . . ." Tears tickled down her cheek. Hot and fast. She closed her eyes and sniffled, gagging on the putrescence of her surroundings. "I fear I will never see you again. Please . . . forgive me."

After much time passed, though she could not tell the day from night, something stirred in the stark void of stench.The sound of a dull thump, followed by a weighty thud, echoed dully in her skull. How the trauma of death and betrayal numbed her. Keys. They slid in, unlocked—the King! He had ordered her death!

She gasped, clamped her fingers over her mouth and bit hard upon them as she scrambled deeper into the cell. Her bare feet slipped and she crashed into someone who did not move. The door groaned open, and a lantern shined inward.

Ysabeau ducked behind the rotted flesh of the person who shielded her. The light glowed sickly through the dangling flesh and slackened jaw.

"Ysabeau? Is that you?"

A rush of hope stabbed her so painfully, she cried out. "Andrién? Andrién!" Tears of joy washed over her and weakness trembled her knees.

"Quick, come—let us hurry while we still can!" His voice was oddly subdued. Without another word, she scurried past the corpse and into his widespread arms. Warmth. Beautiful and strong!

"I-I—what are you doing here? Do you not know the King wants your head?"

"Do you know he wants yours?" He smiled with a wink.

"Oh, I how I have missed you!" She squeezed him tighter. "I thought I was going to die. Philippe, he had proposed marriage and then betrayed me all in a single day."

His face hardened. "He has proposed marriage?"

Scandalized, she pulled from him. "Is that all that concerns you? Did you not hear—"

"Oui, oui, I did. No time to explain, bien-aimée fille. I shall explain all in good time, but not here. Come, let us go!"

Andrién tossed a satchel and she caught it. "My satchel." After slamming her legs into breeches and boots, tearing into the tunic and bandolier, she threw Philippe's cassock on and attached her weapons. "Where did you know to find my personal effects?"

He shook his head, eyes darting to the left. "Let us hurry!" he whispered.

They passed the keeper who lay face down. Within the darkness with a single flame to lead the way, they rushed what seemed deeper into the prison. Voices, weak, pitiable, deathly, sounded. How mournful and frightening! They came to a dead end, and Ysabeau gasped.

"Why did you lead us here?"

He shook his head, pressed his lips together, and forced his back to the wall. His boots braced against the opposite side and he pushed, his breath grinding quietly. Ysabeau took the lantern from him and he lifted his other leg and heaved.

A low growl sounded and the earth shifted. Dust sprinkled. The wall gave! Just enough to slide in sideways.

"Hurry." He took the lantern from her and motioned her inside. Without another word, Ysabeau gratefully slid past him and into the crack. He followed suit. "Wait." Once upon the other side, he repeated the same motion. The wall moved into place with a grumble.