"Jean-Luc" entered the open double-doors of the Hôtel Treville silenced by awe, much as a religious fanatic enters a great chapel; the urge to fall to her knees in abject respect almost overpowered her. Instead she feasted on the myriad sights, sounds, and smells within. The large, circular, and spacious two-story foyer teemed with men. Young and old, of every size and shape, some swam in the sea of royal blue and silver tabards; others swagger in leather and lace, high bucket-top boots, swords clanging from their hips where they hung from their scabbards. Plume after plume bobbed through the air, rising high from the hats sitting jauntily on their heads. Musketeers all.
The Hôtel Treville named for the famous commander of the Musketeers who had ruled over Athos, Porthos, Aramis, and d"Ar
