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Treville wasn’t sure when the king had begun to suspect about his relationship with Richelieu, but he’d apparently had been watching them for a long time. A very long time.
In retrospect, that sort of behavior made perfect sense.
Soldiers learned to study their superiors and the ones who needed their protection. It was an essential aspect of the job. And Louis had known Treville for most of his life, even been trained by him.
The fact that Louis had continued studying Treville’s actions and responses wasn’t surprising. After all, Treville spent so much time ensuring Louis’s safety and France’s safety, that knowing how Treville would react to certain elements or situations was vital. It was important to know your own guard.
It was a crisp day in September when Louis quietly asked Treville to talk to him privately, shooing away everyone else. Courtiers had left without a fuss, used to the sight of Treville’s simple clothes and armor beside the king. The Cardinal had just left the rooms after talking to Treville, standing close to him in case he would falter. His legs still hadn’t gained back their full strengthen after being held in a Spanish prison. Only a few months had passed since he’d returned to Paris.
“You got Richelieu back,” Louis clarified, passing by old drapery that looked less scarlet these days and had become the color of cheap red wine. It probably cost more than everything Treville would ever own.
Treville inclined his head.
This was true. He’d had many conversations with the king that began like this after Richelieu had been put on bed rest and surrounded by the best doctors in the country.
“France needs Richelieu, your majesty,” Treville said. It was a simple fact. Someone like Richlieu had to occupy the position of the king’s adviser. Someone who was highly intelligent and merciless and valued France above his own personal gains. “When I heard he was alive and imprisoned by the Spanish, I thought that we had no time to lose.”
“You practically brought him back from the dead, Captain,” Louis said.
“He’s glad to be back in your service, Sire,” Treville replied. This was also completely true. Richelieu was enjoying himself immensely, ordering people around and writing thousands of letters, even as he recovered.
“Other people would have left him there to die,” Louis said. “The Cardinal has many enemies. But you rode through the night to get him safely to Paris.”
“Yes, sir,” Treville said. “It’s my job to protect France. Finding and bringing the Cardinal back was the best way to promote stability.”
“The cat comes back and the mouses start behaving themselves, you mean?” Louis asked. “The court is certainly on edge after his return. It appears that they don’t want to antagonize a man who rejects the idea of dying and devotes himself to God and France’s service instead.”
Treville said nothing. He just waited.
“But that’s not the whole answer, is it?” Louis continued.”You didn’t just fetch him because you thought it would be beneficial to our country. You wanted him to come back.”
It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.
The king had also spent a long time studying and watching Richelieu. And now he was using what he had learned. Even the look in his eyes was similar to the one Richelieu would use when he was trying to be persuasive.
Treville fought the urge to cover his face with his hand. Doing that would only remind him that his beard and hair was mostly silver now, stress and tension having taken its toll on him. Life without Armand beside him, steering the entire country so that it would retain it’s prestige and power and preferably become even greater, had not been the sort he preferred.
Even now, with Richelieu slowly recovering and asking for all sorts of things to occupy his time when he was forced to rest, like old books and sweet-smelling wildflowers and God knew what else, he’d still managed to fix most of the damage done in his absence.
“A Musketeers knows a good ally when he sees one,” Treville managed. “It’s useful for me to have someone around who strives to keep you safe as well, your majesty. If something were to occur and I would be injured, he would hold the fort.”
The king was smiling. It was the delighted smile of a child whose parents were getting along splendidly after being separated.
Treville found himself smiling back.