CHAPTER 4
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A court musician walked the palace grounds, playing the French bagpipes as the sun rose over Paris and the people in the Palais du Louvre awoke for another day.
The night guards changed with the morning guards. The servants prepared the palace rooms while the maids lay out the dining table for breakfast.
Six men and three maids headed towards the King's suite, carrying trays and boxes, knocking on the ivory and gold gilded doors before they were opened.
"Your Majesty..." The Grand Chamberlain, Lord Ethan Rey, the son of the Marquess de Liancourt and the King's best friend said simply as King Christophe slept, snoring into a pillow. "Your Majesty."
He didn't budge as Ethan gave a single nod to the maids. One stood at each of the three windows and pulled the curtains open, the room being filled with golden sunshine.
Christophe flinched as the sun beamed onto his face, making him groan. "Go away!"
"Christophe!" Ethan snapped as Christophe shook his head. "You have five minutes to get up or I will call your mother."
"Go away."
"Get the King's mother."
Through the halls, heels clicked against the tiled floor and a brocade gown flowed as the Dowager Queen of France, Therese of Normandy, marched through the corridors of the palace, staff bowing and curtsying to her as she passed them.
Reaching her eldest son's room, she entered, grabbed the jug of cold water held on a tray by one of the maids and poured it all over him and the King jumped up, coughing.
"Mother!" He cried, looking down at her as he stood up on his bed.
"There you go!" Therese smiled, proud of herself. She looked at Ethan. "I'm surprised you needed my permission."
She left the room, the staff in the suite dipping into bows or curtsies as Christophe sat down on the bed. "You throw water on me, I'll throw it on you."
Ethan laughed, the doors to the suite closing as the King got ready for the day.
***
Washed and groomed, Christophe stood before the mirror as he was dressed.
The scar on his shoulder from two years ago, when an unknown assassin fired at him while he was meeting the people of Orleans, was slightly red, something Ethan noticed. "Shall I get the physician?" He asked, without looking at the King and Christophe shook his head.
"It's fine..." He assured him as Christophe touched the wound. It was this scar that resulted in the disbanding of the musketeers and the constant fear that an assassination attempt would be successful next time.
But it was all part of the job.
Since becoming King, he knew his life was in danger every time he stepped out of the palace, but he still wanted to help his people and the only way he could do that was by understanding what they needed by being amongst them, despite the dangers that came with it.
As he pulled his jacket on, Christophe checked his appearance in the mirror one final time as he left the room, heading down to the dining room.
There were his younger siblings – Prince Jacques and Princess Louise and they stood up as he entered the dining room.
YOU ARE READING
The Three Musketeers (IN EDITS)
Historical Fiction'Don't Mess with the Dress...' *** For twelve years, Arianne d'Artagnan has been in the midst of the English Civil War and after disaster struck, she went into hiding to protect herself and eventually returning to her homeland of France. With her f...
