It eased a degree of the tightness in her chest to know she was not alone in knowing of her husband's murder. The Queen had already too many of her own worries to allow her to comfortably add to the weight her friend bore. She could not ask for advice on a matter that seemed so trivial in the face of Rochefort's attack, particularly in knowing the damage the man could do if he could prove the Queen's infidelity.

She might have drained her glass entirely had he offered any condolences then.

"Should I also explain that I had thought he had had a hand in it, until he told me otherwise?" The beautifully icy cocktail was less than comforting when she paused to drink it than she had hoped. "Perhaps I should tell him what cause he had had to swear to do exactly that that very day?" Shaking her head, Constance gave him a sad smile. "I could not do that to him, Porthos."