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If this wasn’t heaven, then Anne didn’t know what was. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping in the trees, and her, Aramis and their friends had managed to make a getaway from Paris with so few guards that the breakfast they were currently enjoying outside their residence could be described as private. Louis seemed to be having a wonderful time as well, practicing his fencing motions and basking in the sun. Aramis too was in very high spirits, having been reunited with his three closest friends. He thanked God every day for the life he had with his family, but the palace could get lonely at times.
‘I’ve not had food this nice for months!’ Porthos exclaimed while munching on some sweet bread and swallowing it down with wine. Everyone around the table murmured their approval, overwhelmed by the joy of being together again.
‘I was thinking…’ Anne said. ‘I’d like to cook dinner tonight, help out for once.’ Constance, Elodie and Sylvie beamed and shot encouraging smiles at Anne - they knew how stifling her role as regent could be, so the more non-royal normalcy she could enjoy during this weekend, the better.
Athos, Porthos and D’Artagnan, however, remained frozen in silence, their faces blank. Aramis desperately wished that he could join them in their stillness but he was too busy trying to catch air, having choked on his wine. He did manage to recover with a solid pat on the back from Porthos, but the issue still remained - Anne was going to cook.
‘Is that really the best use of your time? We only have so much time left here - perhaps it’s best that you just enjoy the nature?’ Aramis suggested, his throat still feeling much abused by the coughing, and the other ex-Musketeers nodded vigorously.
‘I’m sure, Aramis. Besides, it’s a good example to set for Louis,’ she replied, giving Aramis her sweetest smile. He was running out of ideas for how to get out of this situation.
‘Maybe…let me help at least? And that way when we get back we can say we already had our weekly planning meeting?’ Aramis asked, his brothers’ eyes boring into him, pleading to save the day.
‘It really is okay - I want to do this one thing for you, you know?’ Anne shot Aramis another one of her Oh So Incredibly Sweet and Innocent That His Knees Grew Weak smiles and he was left speechless. ‘Besides, you told me you hated cooking when you were in the army.’
Unfortunately for everyone, Aramis’ desperation at running out of arguments must have showed on his face because Anne was now frowning at him. He shot his brothers a pleading look - D’Artagnan just managed to pout, Porthos shrugged, and Athos shook his head looking more resigned than he ever did in his days as Captain.
‘Aramis,’ Oh no - Anne was now using her Queen Regent voice on him. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing! I just…don’t want you to exert yourself!’ Aramis tried to save the situation desperately, but his love knew him all too well now.
‘Really? Is that why you dragged me into a game of Musketeers with Louis yesterday?’ Anne asked with a raised eyebrow and Aramis wondered whether Hell was in need of a First Minister because he was ready to sink down into its dark depths to avoid this conversation.
‘Aramis, out with it. What’s wrong?’ All that he managed in reply was a completely undignified and definitely non-Ministerial whimper. Porthos sighed and Athos threw his head back, evidently suppressing a sigh. ‘I should have you whipped for defying my orders Minister,’ Anne continued in a mock-stern tone.
‘Oh, well, if you ever want to experiment, I would gladly…’
‘ARAMIS!’ Constance and Sylvie shut him down, both pointing at Louis playing just a few metres away.
‘Don’t change the topic. Why should I not cook?’ Anne persisted, and Aramis wondered whether Athos had just closed his eyes to avoid the conversation or whether the stress had finally caused some sort of damage to his head.
‘Your Majesty!’ Aramis called in the direction of the green pasture that Louis was playing on and waved the boy over. The young king waved back but continued swashing his sword around.
‘Are you- Are you trying to use our son as a shield?!’ Anne whispered in disbelief. ‘Aramis, what is going on with you?’ She was now starting to sound upset and Aramis really did want to disappear himself.
‘Seriously, all of you..? What’s with the sour faces?’ Constance chipped in, her creased brow perfectly reflecting the confusion that both Elodie and Sylvie were also feeling.
The young king thankfully picked that moment to drop his sword and clamber into his Favourite First Minister’s lap. At least Aramis should now be safe from physical retaliation. He breathed a deep sigh and prepared himself.
‘It’s the fish,’ he finally spat out and both D’Artagnan and Porthos gasped out loud.
‘Fish?’ Sylvie asked, growing increasingly perplexed. She had not seen Athos so distressed in months and wanted to get to the bottom of this bizarre situation, which apparently was to do with fish.
It took a couple of seconds for Anne to process why Aramis was suddenly talking about fish but then it clicked. She had cooked fish for him and the other Musketeers! She briefly wondered whether she could one day get Aramis to show off his amazing physique all wet and glistening in the afternoon sun catch some more fish for her but she needed to get to the bottom of this situation first.
‘I could make something else this time if you don’t like fish?’ Anne inquired, still unsure what the problem was.
‘It’s not the fish, really…It…Oh god, here goes. It was burnt to a crisp, which made it…somewhat…not…very…edible?’ Well done Aramis. You can master correspondence with foreign dignitaries and insane French nobility, but you can’t let the love of your life down lightly.
‘It wasn’t that bad, majesty,’ Porthos tried, but the grimace on his face betrayed what he was really thinking. Athos was still leaning back in his chair, as if to pretend that he was not sat at the breakfast table with them, dying of discomfort. D’Artagnan said nothing and was now desperately clinging to Constance.
Anne could not help herself and burst out into a bout of very inappropriate and non-regal laughter. Sylvie and Elodie snickered while Constance just shook her head, her eyes raised to the heavens in silent prayer for God to keep her sanity intact amidst these Musketeer idiots.
‘And you couldn’t have just told me this because…?’ Anne queried, once she managed to calm down a bit. It stung a bit that Aramis would lie to her, but then they were nowhere near as close back then as they were now.
‘I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, I’m sorry,’ Aramis bit out. At least he had the decency to looked genuinely contrite, his head bowed and hidden in Louis curls.
‘Don’t hide things from me again, please?’ Anne pleaded, desperate for this one man to be honest with her amidst all the lies and backstabbing they faced every day. He didn’t say anything and instead held her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to its back in a silent promise.
‘I’d still like to learn? To cook, I mean,’ Anne asked. She knew her friends would not ridicule her for her lack of skill but it was still uncomfortable to ask.
‘We can help,’ Constance offered, and even Athos had awoken from his dissociative stupor and was nodding his head.
‘How wonderful!’ Anne exclaimed and clapped her hands. ‘Aramis, do you want to come and help me find some fish?’
Her First Minister was up on his feet before she even managed to properly turn towards him again.