Chapter Text
Sounds of shouting had started in the market square. Juliette pushed her way forward to see what it was this time. A fight had started over food and Governor Feron's Red Guards had stepped in to stop it; they used a lot of muscle. Juliette thought of her brothers, how they loved to appear tougher than they were. Without the sombre, rather sinister, uniform, these Red Guards would look just like the young lads they were.
It didn't take long to break up, the Red Guards made up in superior weapons what they lacked in age. Already men were being led into a queue to spend a cooling night in the cells. It was then that Juliette noticed the guard on the chestnut horse. He had dark eyes and light brown hair, almost the colour of his horse's coat, and wore a smart black and red jacket with double lapels. He appeared to be in command.
Just as she was watching him, a man from the line broke loose and ran in Juliette's direction, towards the onlookers. She wasn't quick enough to dodge away and he slammed into her side, faltering clumsily while the guards caught him easily and took him back.
"You all right, Mademoiselle?" The man on the horse looked in Juliette's direction. His voice was gentle and concerned but she had heard about the savagery of the Red Guard. She hesitated; most people avoided having any more contact with these people than necessary. To her surprise he jumped from his horse and approached her. "I'm sorry about that, lady..."
"You should be," Said an old woman standing near Juliette, "the young lady was almost knocked over."
Juliette was suddenly aware that her clothing, neat and clean and new, marked her out as a person of some standing. She wasn't used to this. "I'm really all right, thank you for asking." She looked up into the dark eyes of the young Red Guard captain. On hearing her clear voice, he bowed slightly and said "You must let me take you home. I can see you're still shaken. We do try to keep the streets safe, I'm sorry that this time we failed."
Juliette looked around, feeling someone's eyes on her. Sure enough, there was her boss Constance d'Artagnan frowning at her in warning. It had been a nice day, the sun was out and Juliette had simply wanted to walk to the market to buy some fresh fruit on her first afternoon off in her new job. She decided to trust her instincts and go with the young man. What could he do to her anyway, in this public place? The crowd parted for them as they walked away.
"I live at the Palace," Juliette told him, "it's not far. You're Red Guard, aren't you?"
"I am its Captain - Georges Marcheaux - you must be new here. Where are you from?"
Juliette hesitated. She knew that Constance would not be far behind, and Madame had told her bad things about these Red Guards and their boss, Governor Feron. "You must not believe all you hear about us," Marcheaux said with a boyish smile. Juliette shot a quick glance at him - his eyes had been brown when she first saw him and now they were green. Was that possible? Juliette dropped a small curtsy, "Juliette Bonnard, from Auvers, about half a day's ride from here. I just started work at the Palace. One of my cousins is a footman and found me work. I'm not used to the city, it's so big...... I suppose you are Parisien."
"No..." he faltered slightly, "Governor Feron is my patron and appointed me. I suppose you could say you and I are both 'étrangers', strangers, in this place."
They had reached the Palace gates and the entrance which Juliette used as it was the nearest way to the servants' quarters. She turned to him, "Thank you, Monsieur le Capitaine," and with a little flourish of her hand "Here's my home!"
For a moment he looked slightly puzzled, then saw the joke and his face brightened. Juliette realised that he wasn't used to such light-heartedness and felt suddenly sad for him. He bowed and gathered his horse's reins, "Welcome to Paris, mademoiselle, I hope you will soon have a better impression of our city - and of my men too." he mounted his horse and looked down at her; their eyes held: brown - green? perhaps a little of both, she decided as he waved to her and rode off with a flourish that she could tell was all for her. She sighed.
"You had me worried for a moment, Julie, I hope he behaved himself." Madame d'Artagnan drew alongside her as she went through the gates.
"He was a perfect gentleman," Juliette replied, "it's a puzzle. He's nothing like the person you've described to me. Do you happen to know where he's from, originally?"
"Afraid I don't. Some sewer, most likely. Look, whatever he's told you, be careful. He's not to be trusted, or any of his men."