El Impostor Espanol

Chapter 6 - Through a Glass Darkly

There was no knock on the rickety door before it was pushed open, the sounds of the bustling Garrison filtering through into the room before it was quickly closed again. Her guest gave no apology for intruding or indeed any introduction, and yet she knew exactly who they were and their purpose for entering.

She didn't turn, her fingers still ghosting over her beloved pauldron, the urge to slide it onto her shoulder building as she took in the intricate details of the fleur-de-lis and the marks of battles long past marring the leather. She continued to touch the smooth symbol of her station even as hands came to rest on her hips.

"You haven't been yourself without it."

That was understatement, she thought to herself as his thumbs began rubbing soft circles into the material of her shirt as it met her breeches.

To her, the pauldron wasn't just a symbol of power but a hope for the future of France. If she, a lowly governess' daughter could fight her way to the top of the pile and prove herself worthy of the King's commission, then surely other women could too. France was in no short supply of powerful women who would change the world they lived in if only given the chance.

It had felt strange that morning, slipping into the leather of her uniform after so long in dresses. They had journeyed to the Garrison together; a tense silence between them as they considered what would happen if her suspension was not lifted.

It of course, had been. And it had only taken a meeting with the smug Comte de Rochefort in which she humbly apologised for her behaviour and assured the smirking man that she had learnt her lesson and once again felt worthy to wear the King's symbol. It had killed her. She had fought down bile as the words dripped from her mouth and both she and the Comte knew she meant none of it but he had no reason for a prolonged suspension and so, as she loitered in the courtyard this morning, she had known that the leather moulded for no shoulder other than her own, would be hers once again. The sneer on the Red Guard's face as he rode in with the letter confirming it was just an added bonus.

And so that's how she found herself here, in a small room saved for Musketeers needing emergency lodging, grinning at the pauldron that Treville had safely stored away before his demotion.

"They'll want to celebrate tonight."

She nodded at his words and another smile bloomed as she thought back to the engulfing hugs of her brothers as she caught the leather Treville had tossed from high above on the balcony.

Honestly, they had all looked so worried as she scanned Rochefort's note and her heart twinged as they all stood anxiously, ready to pounce if the worst happened. She loved them all dearly; they were more than family to her: Porthos and Aramis the older brothers she had never known she wanted until they had barged into her life and deemed her in need of their protection, D'Artagnan the youngest of the family – always eager to learn from his elders but his heart always open, Treville was without a doubt the father figure that had been missing from her life since she and her mother had fled Poitier all those years ago – the man had quickly become the source of all words of wisdom and she 'almost' never questioned him, whether he was sending her into the heart of Spain to spy or simply asking her to keep an eye on the men after a particularly stressful mission they were reluctant to discuss with anyone who hadn't been there.

That brought her to the fifth man in the courtyard who had never wavered from her side even when his eyes were full of questions she couldn't bear to answer. The past few weeks had been trying as they tip-toed around the fact that technically she was no longer a Musketeer and then there was their un-planned trip to Pinon and honestly, she was proud that they'd made it...that he'd made it.