Musketeer's Daughter:Unanswered Riddle

Chapter 54: Exile

If it had not been for her metal corset, Ysabeau would have surely died. And how she managed to fight, she would never know but would forever be grateful to the Lord. She lay in bed, the hangings pulled back with Marguerite at her side. The royal physician spoke with Andrién and Philippe who stood beside the door in low voices.

"You are one lucky enfant, Ysabeau."

"Thank you for finding Andrién."

The Garde's staff knocked the floor twice, everyone turned and bowed or curtsied. In walked the King, his face a perpetual calm.

"Your Majesty!" Ysabeau fretted, smoothing the covers about her, straightening her gown, hair . . .

He dismissed her with a lazy wave of his hand and paused at her side. "And how is my little musketeer?" His voice danced with the smile upon his lips. "I heard amazing reports of your bravery, valor, tenacity."

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

"I shall have none of that, Ysabeau. You may call me Henri—you have won my undying respect and I gladly accept Philippe's choice in marriage if you will have the old sot after all." Henri turned over his shoulder with a twinkle in his eyes. "As I said before, you make quite the match—the match of the coming century!

"As for you, ma chère." The King turned to Marguerite and pinched her chin. "You have my full pardon—Andrién may keep his duchy and you may have him to wed, the old scab."

Marguerite's eyes glassed and she dropped to the floor into a curtsey. "Your Majesty!"

Henri gave her his hand and she did not waste time as she leaned in to kiss his ring. "Say nothing of this to no one, mademoiselles, for I have plans of formalization the very moment Ysabeau sets foot upon the floor."

"Oui, we shall speak of this to no one." Marguerite's face shined and she turned, sharing glances with Ysabeau. Never had Ysabeau seen her mère so brilliant with happiness. What joy!

Henri lingered a bit longer, chatting in his lighthearted tone with Philippe and Andrién. After several more moments, he departed and everyone rushed to Ysabeau's bedside.

"And how is the femme of the hour faring?" Andrién leaned over and placed warm lips upon her forehead. She tested her muscle groups, and gasped when it came to her abdominals. His rich laughter floated to her. "No need to jump and dance the minuet just yet, bien-aimée fille. We shall take our leave and see that you gain your rest."

"I have never seen you so happy, Andrién." Her nose became sensitive as tears decided to pierce her eyes.

"What more can a man ask for with the ones he loves by his side?" He indicated Marguerite whom he embraced, Philippe, whom he shoved aside, and gestured Ysabeau who smiled.

"Oui, you have it correct, Papa." Her heart leapt at the endearment of calling him properly for the first time ever. An endearment that Mathieu alone had used for Andrién.

"Supper will be brought up to you. Rest until then." He kissed her brow and waited for Marguerite's turn with Ysabeau. When they both blessed her, they linked arms and strolled away in affectionate dialogue.

Philippe stayed and lowered to the bed, taking her hand in his. "I was afraid I was going to lose you. The doctor had said you lost much blood." His voice caught, and he turned away.

"No need for tears, mon amour, we both survived our very first battle and conquered the enemy together." Ysabeau reminisced the excitement of it all, how she utilized her skill and how she beat them. "A fille could not ask for more."