"Hold still."
I thought just a corset would be the death of me, but now I'm being pricked by a sewing needle. Constance is making some final alterations on the dress her and her father made me.
"I'm sorry Constance, I'm just nervous."
"Why? You have been in court before, at the Kings side." She stops for a moment and comes to stand in front of me. "Except you thrive on attention. So that could only mean..."
I bite my lips. My stomach felt fluttery.
"Oh you poor, poor girl. You're lovesick."
I stand up straight "I am no such thing and you made that up."
"I did, and you are. Our big bad musketeer is shaken up by a Viscount, who would'be seen it coming?" She taunts playfully.
"I know it sounds silly, but Frederick is the only boy I've ever kissed. The Viscount is a man, a gentleman. I on the other hand, am an orphaned basket case who is hated by most of her Comrades. No body respects me. Besides Charles."
"Also me, my father, Treville, Porthos, Aramis and Athos. I'd say we make up quite the list."
"You're right."
"I tend to be. Now, come over here." She helps me off the stool and to the mirror.
"Wow." Is the only word I can muster.
"You look amazing. You'll look even more beautiful with your hair done." She grabs my shoulders and sits me in the chair.
Constance was arrived ready. She wore a fine pale pink dress and had her hair intricately braided and styled. She began brushing through my hair. When I was on duty it was always pulled back but never anything so stylish as what Constance usually wore.
It feels odd to have someone brush your hair. The last person besides myself who ever did was my father.
"Are you alright?" Constance asks me. She can see my sullen face in the mirror.
"Oh, yes. I've just never had my Hair done before."
She rest a hand on my shoulder, her eyes meeting mine in the mirror.
"I lost my mother young too. It's a strange feeling growing up, not getting to do the things a Mother and daughter ought to growing up."
"Do you remember her much?"
She shakes her head "You?"
"I never met her. She passed during my birth."
Constance rest her chin on my shoulder.
"I'm sorry for your loss."
"And you."
She places one more pin in my hair and backs up.
"Done." She grabs a few products from a box. "Alittle bit of powder and some rouge."
"Thank you again. For all of this." I motion to my hair and dress.
"Please. I grew up an only child, getting to make up another girl was a gift. I love sewing, but I rarely have the opportunity to make something for another."
She takes a seat on my bed.
"If you'd like, you could see up a while closer for my brother. The boy always has a hole in his pant from all his daily shenanigans."
"I can imagine. Your brother is quite the character."
"He's my brother Constance, there is no one who thinks him more stupid in all of France."
YOU ARE READING
The Female Musketeer
Historical FictionDaria La Vielle was just a farm girl. The Three musketeers Athos, Porthos and Aramis were just soldiers. But all four found they were more than just titles given to them. Love, Revenge and Swords make for a good time. but when it comes to being a wo...
