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Chapter 1: What happens when Milady de Winter is believed dead?
This is Drama of the Week.
Imagine you were granted a second life.
If I sentence you to death by hanging!
Not the one that is to come in heaven. I mean a second life in the here and now. In this grubby, nasty, fickle little world we call home. Now imagine being granted a third.
Are you ready to die?
Absolutely. I've done it before. My only dream was to escape the drudgery and pain of the existence intended for me and start again from scratch. As you have no name, I shall give you one. To become someone entirely new. Sister Anne. It is the name Sister Marie-Thérèse chose for me. What of your real name? I have nothing of my own apart from this.
The name my mother gave me is mine alone, and I will never tell it. From now on, your name is Charlotte, the Lady Carlic. One of my husbands was an English aristocrat who sadly croaked in mysterious circumstances on our wedding night. Breathe. I can't breathe. Which was fitting, given that he had the face of a toad.
The other was a French noble who reacted badly after discovering the brand I am forced to carry. Seared into my skin is the fleur-de-lis. The eternal mark of shame.
What horror is this? A fleur-de-lis? A mark of awe?
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Chapter 2: How does Cardinal Richelieu play a role in Milady's life?
Liar! I took you for an angel! You are a demon!
Both attempts failed. First, I was saved from hanging by the intervention of fate. The rotten branch the fool strung me from snapped just before my spirit departed. Then, my intended beheading was prevented.
The Musketeers must believe you are executed. Go to the seminary at Vosthouse.
Thanks to an intervention by the most brilliant mind in France.
He will send for you there.
Who will?
The Cardinal. I work for him.
His eminence Cardinal Richelieu, my creator, my mentor, my nemesis. Only God wields more power. Only God sees more than his network of spies and informers. It would probably be easier to count those who do not work for him ahead of those who do. Although if you were to ask him, he would deny anyone works for him at all.
Those who choose to do my bidding are in service not to me, but to the nation. There is only one purpose to all our endeavors. The glorification of France. I was born in a pigsty, but I refuse to accept that I belonged there. All the injustices and cruelties I endured have only served to sharpen the blade of my will. My spirit is not done with this world yet. It will not submit.
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Chapter 3: What mission does Milady embark on for Richelieu?
I followed instructions and made my way to Vossel, hoping to find him again. I wished to thank him, to kiss him, to take away the pain he must feel with his skin all scarred from the fire Athos set, leaving him to die in the flames.
Madam, I am coming in.
I found nothing, and here I have been ever since. Nine months confined in a freezing, stone-floored room with only a foul, woollen monk's habit to wear, waiting for Richelieu, my master, to whistle.
I have bread and stew made with fish's tails.
It must be Wednesday.
I promise. It is tasty, fair.
Also, a goblet of wine. Do not describe that vinegar as wine. Please, be seated. Abbé Pirot is another of the Cardinal's men, one of just a handful of the brothers here who know I occupy this tiny room in an obscure tower somewhere within the Abbey grounds.
Bon appétit.
Merci.
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Chapter 4: How does Milady's past influence her current actions?
No man can pay a price high enough to see the fleur-de-lis.
That is very nice.
Tell me about the horrors of lust.
They are manifold.
Ah, ah, ah!
You know the rule. You may look, but no touching. Your soul would be damned, and we don't want that now, do we?
We are all sinners, milady. That is our curse. Push the habit down further. Lead me into temptation.
Abbe Pyrrho is a spineless hypocrite, like so many men I have been acquainted with. I am fully aware that it is only the Cardinal's protection which keeps me safe here. He acts as my invisible shield, and the Abbe dear not lay a finger upon me.
If ever he were to try, my hair is held up by a pin made of deer bone, strong and sharp enough to kill a man if stabbed into the eye or the throat with enough force. Given these protective charms, it seems perfectly wise to exploit his drooling desire whilst I can, to aid me in building my war chest. And make no mistake, I am at war. Forgive me, Lord Jesus.
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Chapter 5: What challenges does Milady face in her new life?
But before you approach, remove the pin from your hair and place it on the table. Does it please you to see it fall over my shoulders? My main concern is that you surrender all the weapons you have about you. There must be a second blade. What makes you think so? I oversaw your training. Turn away. I will have to lift my habit to reach it, and what lies beneath may make you blush.
Any man fool enough to show his back to you would deserve to die. You will be the one to turn. If you insist. I understand why you want to kill me. I very much doubt that you do. Were I in your shoes, I would want to kill me too. What shoes? I've been barefoot for months. You betrayed me.
You delivered me into the hands of my enemies, letting me believe I was to be butchered and left to rot in a shallow grave. Disturbing, I'm sure, but there was no option. I haven't finished.
You compound the insult by having me confined in this godforsaken monastery, kept like an animal, dressed in a sack, and forced to witness the hideous spectacle of a supposedly holy man beating himself into a lustful frenzy whenever he manages to engineer the opportunity to be in my company. Quite naturally. You feel upset about that. Upset? Doesn't quite do it justice.
Please suppress the urge to kill long enough for me to tell you why I am here. Where is Laurent? Who? Father de Broglie. You sent him to pose as my executioner. Ah, the fallen priest, yes. I was meant to ask, what was it like living in sin with him whilst you masqueraded as brother and sister? Did that add to the shame or the pleasure? Where is he? He is still in my service. Where exactly?
He is doing essential work for France in Piedmont, where the Spanish have lain siege to Casa Le Monferrato. You swear he's safe? The scarring from the fire seems to encourage others to trust him. He has become a valuable asset. I wish to write him a letter. Compose something. I will see that he receives it. Now shut up and listen. France calls you back to her service. We're at a critical point.
If things go as I intend, we can secure our position as one of the great powers. If I fail, we may become lackeys of the Spanish with a Habsburg on the French throne. World affairs are no concern of mine. A monkey might be king of France for all I care.
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Chapter 6: How does Milady's relationship with Laurent evolve?
I'm sorry you feel that way. Your regret is worth nothing to me. Let's talk compensation. That can be arranged. Perhaps a bottle or two of Borgogna 22, an excellent year for the grape. Taste the monks' piss they serve here and you will find out you owe me far more than a couple of bottles.
Everything you have been through since you returned from the business with Lord Buckingham in England was necessary in pursuit of wider aims. You cannot fully understand, as you are not party to all the information. You are only one of the pieces.
No one but I can see the whole of the chessboard.
I am just your pawn. You are a far more elegant and dangerous piece. Perhaps you are my queen. Whatever you are, I am ready to move you. But there is work to be done first. You seem to have returned to your natural state, that of a peasant. You both look and smell like an animal. It's what happens when you lock a girl in a pigsty. A wagoneer will collect you tonight.
I have a woman in Paris ready and waiting to restore you. When we next meet, I expect to find something more pleasing to the eye and to the nose. What if I preferred to stay here with my friend Niabe? Labouring under the illusion that you have a choice would be a mistake. Do as I say and continue living. That is the bargain you have made. The journey is a long one.
We stop to rest and change the horses next morning at Pompien, not setting off again until late afternoon. Why do we travel so late in the day?
His eminence wishes you to arrive under the cloak of night.
Is he ashamed of me?
The only thing that shames him is the state of our country.
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Chapter 7: What is the significance of the funeral scene?
My hair shines, my skin radiates like the sun. I try on an array of the finest, most beautiful dresses, one after another, until I find one that seems to me the perfect fit. What do you think? That's the one. Agreed. Excuse me. Crossing the room, she opens the ornate wooden door of a wardrobe built into the wall, stretching from floor to ceiling.
Moving aside some garments reveals a small panel, which opens. She moves more clothes and pulls on a small lever. A door in the back of the wardrobe clicks open. You will find him waiting on the other side. A short passage through the wardrobe leads to another door. Bending low, I step through it into the Cardinal's study.
Close it behind you.
He is at his secretaire studying a document with a magnification glass. The door is made with such precision and fits so perfectly into the room's wood panelling that when closed, it appears no door is there at all. I have arrived direct into the centre of his world. Perhaps into the centre of the world itself.
Come into the light.
Let me see you. Madame Delorme has done well. You look like who you are. The Comtesse de l'Affaire. What? Athos. The Comtesse de l'Affaire. Is dead. Is this another lie? You promised me his head a year ago in return for the death of Lord Buckingham.
I received confirmation in this letter. Here.
This proves nothing. It doesn't even say how he died. Apparently he was felling trees in a remote area of woodland on his estate. It seems he miscalculated as a great oak toppled and was crushed to death. Tragically, the body was not discovered for days, by which time animals of the forest had taken their portion. An enjoyable fantasy almost too good to be true.
How do you know this when it is not described in the letter? The more lurid details were told to me personally by Charpentier.
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Chapter 8: How does Milady plan her revenge against Richelieu?
Charpentier? One of my men. I use him when I need someone prepared to get their hands dirty. He's not a nice man. Or a good man. But he is effective. And how does he know? He happened to be in the area at the time. A strange coincidence. Athos was a melancholic, self-pitying drunk. A liability with a flapping mouth.
I knew it long ago, but I could not act until other influential parties gave their approval for me to do so. When they did, I delivered on my promise to you. A life for a life. What would you have me do now? Go to his chateau. Act the grieving widow. Attend a funeral and the reading of the will. Reclaim your title and form a position. How can I go to his funeral? We hated each other.
You had your differences, like any couple. He tried to murder me. Twice. Every marriage has its ups and downs. You seriously think he made me a beneficiary? I know it. I wrote his will myself. Why are you doing this? For the glory of France. It is a move in the game. I am bringing you into play. You will feel my hand upon you, but it is better for now if you do not know to what end.
Once you are established in your new role, I will send for you. You are dismissed. Before I go, get me a quill and ink so I may write to Laurent. Why are your thoughts still occupied by this man? The affairs of my heart are none of your business. Every aspect of your existence is my business. When I created you, I took care to make sure you had no heart. I am waiting.
Predictably, you're giving me a headache. Write if you must, but keep it brief and be discreet. Laurent, my dearest brother, your devoted sister sends warmest wishes. I have not forgotten the risk you took in coming to assist me as I was surrounded by that pack of snarling wolves. Do not be afraid or think you are forgotten. When I can, I will come to you and repay your devotion with an embrace.
Take away your pain with a kiss. Hold that close to your heart. and let it warm you with all my love forever. The Chateau de Chabris, ancestral seat of the House de la Fere, stands on a hill overlooking fertile lands some distance south of Bois. When my carriage arrives, a flag with the family crest upon it lies limply at half-mast.
An old woman, leaning heavily on a stick, appears on the terrace. The mother of Athos, the Dowager Comtesse de la Fere.
She!
No! Dear Mother, how sorry I am that we must meet again in such painful circumstances. Please accept my deepest condolences. It proves impossible to engage her in even the most basic conversation. She hobbles away, travelling in an almost sideways direction like some demented, disorientated crab. In the great hall, the coffin lies on a table in the middle of the room.
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