Manon's Ascension

Peace at Last

Peace at Last

Dressed in rags, Manon was still a queen.

Jacques had a fist clenched around his heart the entire wagon ride down from the palace. Desperately following the message that had been delivered from Manon, asking for him and also a selection of guards and soldiers.

She had found Firmin.

Erec and Nina were staying behind, though they had offered to come with him. Nina in particular was a skilled warrior and, though she was technically retired, a paladin in her own right. She would have been an asset to him.

But Firmin was their problem.

They were going to deal with him once and for all.

Knowing that his wife had been found - or rather, that she had freed herself - lit a fire under him. He left the palace before the soldiers were even ready so he could go meet her.

And he found her now wearing a dress that definitely wasn't hers - a peasant's dress - talking to a group of strong, working men that were all watching her with heavy frowns. Two city guard were stationed nearby, both of them clearly nervous at suddenly being expected to be part of the royal guard, even if only temporarily. There was also a woman and her young son a few steps from the others. She was watching Manon with a worried expression, gnawing on her bottom lip, but remained out of the way of the men that Manon was giving orders to.

Even without the trappings of a queen, Manon was still regal. It was in her demeanor, her confidence, and the power with which she spoke.

More than that, though, she was unharmed.

For a second, that was all Jacques could think as he stood there, watching her give orders like a general, her peasant dress completely at odds with the pretty jewelry she was still wearing from the party, though her hair was down and messy.

That was when it really hit him.

Why was she wearing someone else's dress? What happened to her that made a stranger's dress a necessity?

"Manon!"

She whipped around at his call as he walked quickly her way. A smile broke out over her face, bright and true, with no concealed pain, and it eased his worries.

Somewhat.

"Are you okay?" He asked, grabbing and running his hands down her arms, his eyes down her body, checking for some sign of injury or hurt.

"I'm fine," she reassured him, chuckling. "My new friend Miriam here was kind enough to lend me an old dress of hers as well as share her food with me."

She had gestured to the woman standing aside with her son. She looked surprised and confused to be the focus of two royals, but at the last minute she remembered to dip into a quick, clumsy curtsy that Jacques met with an incline of his head before focusing back on his wife.

"What happened to your dress?"

"Same thing that happened to my shoes," she poked one foot forward, showing him the well worn leather boots that were definitely not hers. "Had to get rid of them to make running easier."

Something eased in his chest. That was probably the best explanation for why his wife needed to be naked.

Though part of him remained angry that it was necessary in the first place.

"Here." Convinced now that she wasn't harmed, he pulled off his jacket and slipped it around her shoulders. She smiled as he pulled it tight.

They were in public. There was only so much they could do. But the look her gave her, burning and filled with love, promised her that he was going to ravish her properly the moment they were alone again.