Just as Angelina finished making the bed, the door suddenly burst open, and Richelieu stormed into the room. "I swear, the second I find those Musketeers, I will personally behead every last one of them. How dare they threaten me! Who the hell do they think they are?" he growled as he paced back and forth like a caged animal.

Angelina flinched when he suddenly threw a glass against the wall. "You are upset, sir. Why don't you come sit down and talk about it?" she offered, softly touching his shoulder.

"Do not tell me what to do, you little twat," he snapped back, and slapped her hand away.

Angelina was completely shocked by this. Throughout the entire time she had been with him, not once had he spoken to her in such a harsh manner. "I am so sorry," she whispered, looking down in shame. "It was completely inappropriate of me, sir. Please forgive me."

Richelieu was both surprised and ashamed by his reaction. How could he do that to her? This was his angel. He silently cursed himself when he saw that she was on the verge of tears, and gently wrapped his arms around her. "Please do not cry. I am the one who owes you an apology, I did not mean it, angel," he murmured, his big hands softly stroking her back. It was amazing at how quickly his anger could disappear just from the mere sight of a single tear in her eye.

Angelina tightly held onto him as he engulfed her in his arms, his embrace both warm and comforting. She just could not imagine being able to live with having him upset with her. She pressed her cheek to his chest, and without thinking whispered, "I love you."

Richelieu was brought back when he heard her say this. How could she even think about saying that, especially after what he had just done? "You know not what you say, my little one," he commented, gently pulling back from her.

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I am not asking for the return of these feelings, your excellence. I apologize, I spoke before thinking," Angelina quietly commented, looking back down.

Simply staring at her, it began to dawn on Richelieu the feelings she shared with him were very much mutual. His intentions had never been to fall in love with this young woman standing before him. To be blunt, he wanted her for nothing more than a good fuck, yet here he stood head over heels for her. "Is what you say true?" he quietly asked.

With her big eyes still glistening with tears, she nodded. "Until I take my last breath, sir, what I said will remain true."

Touched by this, he leaned down to tenderly kiss her lips, his arms going around her waist. "I love you too, my little angel," he murmured against her lips, and felt her smile. He pressed his lips closer to hers in a passionate manner, and gave her a long, thorough kiss before finally pulling away.

"Will you please tell me what had you so upset?" she asked as her arms went around his neck, idly twirling a strand of his hair around her finger.

Richelieu sighed. "Those damn Musketeers have been causing trouble again, and I am getting sick and tired of it."

"What did they do this time? They did not hurt you, did they?" she asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

"No, but I do worry that one of these days they will end up hurting innocent people. On the contrary to what they think, I do care about the people I rule over."

"Of course you do. They are just silly young men who do not know you," she said reassuringly.

He could not help but to smile at this, and gave her another kiss. "It amazes me how you have such a soothing way with your words," he commented as he ran a hand through her hair. "I must go once more, unfortunately. I shall be back later. Is there anything you need before I leave?"

She shook her head, and he gave her one last kiss before walking out of the room. Angelina walked over to the lounge chair there in the room, and was about to sit down to start reading when there was a pounding on the door. She frowned, wondering who it could be, and before she knew it the door burst open, making her cry out in surprise.

"Hello miss," one of the men said as they strolled into the room.

"Who are you?" she demanded, and let out a squeak of shock when two of them suddenly grabbed her.

"She's even prettier than I imagined," one of them commented, his eyes taking a scan of her body.

"Please let me go," she pleaded, struggling against them.

The first man who had spoken stepped in front of her, and after a long moment said, "I am afraid I cannot do that. You see, the Cardinal needs to learn he must pay for his actions, and we feel the best way to do so is to…take something of his."

Angelina's stomach dropped with fear. Just what did they plan on doing?

"I cannot believe you let them in here!" Richelieu yelled as he stormed through the castle. He was both furious…and afraid at the idea of what they may have done.

"We have no idea as to how they got in, your highness. Every entrance is guarded," the guard following him said.

"Just go back to keeping a lookout. Otherwise you are only going to infuriate me even more," Richelieu snapped, and quickly descended down the stairs leading to his chamber. He stopped in front of the closed door, his heart pounding wildly. He prayed they had not harmed Angelina. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door, and rushed over to the bed when he found her lying on it. "Angel-" he started to say, when he finally got a good look at her, and his heart sank. Her hands were bound to the headboard, the ugly rope burns marring her skin revealing that she had put up quite a struggle. Her mouth was gagged, and her face was stained with tears. Her eyes, staring off at nothing, were still glistening with tears, and held a look of pure horror. He looked down at her neck, and felt himself grow nauseous. Her throat had been cut wide open, and dark, sticky blood covered her chest, neck and the cover around her head. His eyes burned with emotion as he gently unbound her. It was obvious from the look on her face that her last moments alive had been filled with fear and terror. He could not even imagine what she had been put through. Unable to hold it in, Richelieu scooped her up into his arms as his own tears began to silently fall. The one thing which had given him true joy…gone in an instant. His arms tightened around her, and he pressed his cheek to her soft hair, not wanting to accept that she was gone. He began to think about the men who still called themselves Musketeers, and a blind rage began to overtake him. If they thought he had ruled with an iron fist before…then they had no idea as to what kind of hell was coming their way…