Constant Companion (A 2011 The Three Musketeers Fanfiction)

Chapter One

It really was ridiculous. My hand was caught in his passionate grasp. Or at least I think it was intended to be passionate: it was only hurting my fingers. I was trapped on my bench by him kneeling in front of me. I dared to glance around for help, but there was no one in sight.

“Mademoiselle, you are like a spring flower. Your beauty shines brighter then even -and I do dare to say this- brighter then the queen herself! Tell me you’ll be mine and I will seek your father’s permission to marry you.”

He stared up at me hopefully. It took every effort not to laugh. “Monsieur le Vicomte, you honor me with your request,” I said, trying to pull my hand free. Did he really have to hold it so tight? “However, my duty is to the queen, and I have no intention of marrying at this time. Thank you, but I cannot accept.”

Like the two young men who’d come before him, his face showed shock as he stared up at me. “But-but,” he stammered. “This cannot be your final answer! I refuse to accept this as your only response to me!”

“You should because it can and it is my final answer,” I told him, standing up quickly. He fell back, his hand jerking painfully on mine before he let go. “Please excuse me.”

I turned and began to walk away. All of the sudden, I felt fingers wrapping around my wrist, and the Vicomte jerked me to a halt. “You can't just walk away from me!” he said. No longer did he look shocked and pitiful. In fact, he looked rather angry. “You will not make a fool of me!”

“You're doing a fine job of that yourself!” I retorted before I could think better of it. His fingers tightened painfully. That was it. I'd had it. I put my right hand over the hand that held my wrist. “I'm going to say this once more, and that's all. I cannot accept your proposal. Good-day!”

Swiftly, I pried his middle finger up and shoved it back with all my might. He yelped in pain and released me. This time when I walked away, he didn't try to follow me.

As I walked out of the garden, I didn’t feel any remorse or regret. His was the third proposal of marriage I’d received since I’d come to the palace. And of course there have been many of the not so appropriate proposals that I hadn’t dignified with a response. At seventeen, I know I’m practically an old maid compared to other girls, but as of yet I haven’t met a man who would respect me.

I met Nicolette Thenardier, one of my fellow ladies in waiting, when I left the gardens. “Her Majesty has been asking for you,” she told me. “Where have you been? You can’t have spent this much time out in the garden.”

“The Vicomte de Rignee found me,” I said by way of explanation. I thought I spotted a look of jealousy on her face as I brushed past her. “Is Anne in her sitting room?”

“Yes,” Nicolette answered, turning to walk beside me. “So, what did the Vicomte want?”

Before I could even begin to think of how to answer that, we met a man in the hallway. “Monsieur,” I said, recognizing the former captain of the musketeers: Monsieur de Treville. I bobbed a quick curtsy.

“Mademoiselle,” the man answered, nodding once before hurrying on his way.

Even with the musketeers disbanded, it was not uncommon to see M. de Treville in the palace. Everyone knew he was working to get the musketeer corps reinstated, though Cardinal Richelieu continued to maintain that his guards were all that were necessary and the musketeers had only been a nuisance. I’ve never heard what had been the cause of the disbanding; it had happened just before I’d taken my place with the queen.

I realized Nicolette was looking at me expectantly as we walked. What had she just said? “I’m sorry,” I said. “My head was in the clouds. What did you say?”