Nadine: 5 DD
Pierre: 7 DD
Victor: 6 DD
GM: 4 DD
The Comte d'Essone's estate had been converted into an infirmary for the nine wounded men and women of the hunting party. A fleet of doctors had arrived from nearby Charouse, One had been called for, the others sent by well-wishers of the family. One came from l'Empereur himself with sympathies from the monarch along with empty promises to put the musketeers on the trail of the surviving assassins--and a passive aggressive observation that if the Comte's own lands were so dangerous, he might have been better served to remain at the Chateau du Soleil.
With the combined efforts of so many talented professionals, no one else died from their wounds. Wyatt and Jacinthe spent their time in the Comtesse's apartments, where the Comte's wife and sister were both laid out to recover, in a room filled with light and music. The children begged Pierre to sit with them, keeping up the spirits of their mother and great-aunt, Jacinthe weeping with memories of terror into Pierre's shoulder every now and then. The prognosis for nearly everyone was good. Though funeral services for Ivonne Martin, Valentin Picard, Soren Leclercq and Eddard Voigt were scheduled for today, Victor du Paroisse, the Comte's chaplain, officiating.
In fact, the Comte's household guard, diminished as they were, were held up as paragons of their caste. Nobility from one end of Theah to the other remarked on the steadfast loyalty, and ferocious fighting skill of the Comte's men and women. Etienne and Nadine were both offered positions with other families. Neither qualified for the Lightning Guard, but both were offered positions in the Musketeers. Etienne, as the Comte's new Marshal, turned them down politely. Ivonne, Valentin and Eddard, as the fighters who had lost their lives, were lionized, their contributions exaggerated. Valentin's doomed charge was written about in the Freiburg Gazette. He was posthumously awarded Journeyman status in the Valroux Swordsman's school. His name was used as a fashionable oath for a few months by the young elite on the forefront of Charouse fashion.
Victor, Pierre and Mayhew's names were largely forgotten. They hadn't been members of the guard, and so their public accolades were sorted into general praise for the Comte's household.
But that was the outside world. Inside the Comte's Chateau, the questions flew fast and thick. Had the Marquis de Roquelaure ordered the assault? Navarre, barely able to walk, though with as promising a prognosis as he could expect, called Nadine into the deceased Marshal Voigt's office, his thick bandages reddened, and his bearded face pale and drawn with pain.
"How is your wound healing?" he asked. His question one of business, rather than simple politeness. The two of them certainly knew this affair hadn't ended with the rout of the attackers.