The Confession

Thank you Donut_Halo, Microraptor, ThisguyAEl and Mium for the power stones!

Enjoy!

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Louis and Anne-Sophie nervously looked down.

More and more sailors were gathering around René's body. Despite the darkness, they could clearly see the officers approaching the corpse. A sailor pointed in their direction.

"Diantre!" cried Anne-Sophie, feeling her strength leave her.

"Hurry! Take off your coat, jacket, and shirt!" ordered Louis, quickly undressing.

"Wh-what?!"

Even in the darkness of the night, he could see her face turning as red as a British uniform. Instinctively, she clutched her clothes tighter.

"Hurry! We don't have much time! We're going to switch uniforms!"

Anne-Sophie immediately felt foolish for not understanding what Louis was trying to do. She obeyed, despite the shame of revealing her body, and handed him her clothes—only the top part of her uniform.

Louis, unfazed, put on the torn shirt, the red jacket with missing gold buttons, and the white coat of the young woman. Since these clothes were mass-produced in the king's factories, they were the same size. Swapping their clothes wasn't an issue.

"Alright, listen to me. He attacked me, and he tried to rape me. I kicked him to defend myself, and he fell. Got it?"

"G-got it."

"You tried to stop him, but you couldn't. You couldn't do anything. Is that clear?"

"But you…"

"Is that clear?" Louis insisted, looking Anne-Sophie straight in the eyes.

Anne-Sophie saw all his determination in that gaze. There wasn't a hint of hesitation.

"Yes," she whispered.

The young man nodded slowly, took a deep breath, and looked down.

"We need to go down."

With extreme caution, Louis and Anne-Sophie climbed down to the deck and were immediately surrounded by soldiers and sailors. Louis pretended his hands were trembling, simulating an indescribable fear. It wasn't hard since they had much at stake.

"What happened here?! I demand a clear answer!" thundered squadron leader Duquesne de Menneville, furious, followed closely by Colonel de Bréhant.

"Sir, a man fell from the main mast. These two were on the hune of the main mast."

The squadron leader stabbed his gaze at the two young soldiers, one of whom had a disheveled uniform.

"Is this your doing?!"

His voice, so low it seemed to rise from the depths of hell, made Louis and Anne-Sophie tremble.

"I-it was an accident, sir," Louis said without daring to look him in the eyes. "He attacked me."

Out of the corner of his eye, Louis saw Jules, Charles, and P'tit Pol doing their best to hold back Jean from intervening. Taller than most sailors, Jean was easy to spot in the crowd. His face was contorted with unspeakable anger.

"An accident?!" the squadron leader roared. "You'd better have a good explanation because if not, by Menneville's word, I'll have you whipped to death!"

Anne-Sophie and Louis flinched but didn't collapse.

With a firm voice, Louis recounted his version of events.

"Sir, I climbed up to the top platform of the main mast to support my friend Pierre, who was on duty. While we were talking, this man joined us with bad intentions. We told him to leave, but he refused and pushed Pierre. Then he threw himself at me to… to… You understand?"

The squadron leader's expression changed, which didn't escape Louis.

Homosexuality, although condemned by the Church, was not unheard of. There were even rumors of a certain tolerance, like infidelity, in the highest circles of society. Louis wasn't sure, but it was a rumor he believed because it was so abject.

Such behavior was probably more common on His Majesty's ships, especially during long voyages, as sailors had no one to turn to for affection except their comrades. But that didn't mean the behavior was accepted.

"Continue."

"He tried to tear off my clothes, and Pierre tried to intervene, but he wasn't strong enough. This man, who is well-known in my company for his bad behavior, easily pushed him aside and started lowering his pants. I managed to kick him, and he fell."

"Young man," said the squadron leader, turning to Pierre, "do you confirm his account?"

"Yes, sir. It's the truth!" Anne-Sophie said, using her man's voice.

The officer turned to the crew.

"Does anyone have anything to report? Did anyone see or hear anything?"

A sailor stepped forward, and the two soldiers trembled as their eyes met.

"Sir, I heard shouting just before the accident and looked in that direction. I saw this man," the sailor said, pointing at Louis, "standing on the top platform and looking down. I also found this jacket button on the ground."

He handed the button to the squadron leader, who compared it to those on Louis's uniform. He had no trouble confirming they were identical.

He quickly noticed that the threads had snapped on the jacket as if someone had pulled on it violently, the same with Louis's torn shirt.

"Are there any other testimonies?"

"Me, sir," said a sergeant, raising his hand.

"What is your testimony? What did you see or hear?"

"I am the sergeant of the deceased soldier. I am Sergeant Dupuy, under the command of Captain Lecornu. This soldier, as this young man said, had a very bad reputation. He was a violent man who committed numerous criminal acts in enemy territory. Everyone who knew him knows this. He liked to harm people, regardless of their gender or age. I saw him, sir, raping a child in front of her parents! There are several witnesses, and a report has been written. He... He was a monster!

"I can also testify against this man, sir. In Hanover, when we had just taken Hameln…"

The testimonies came in quickly, and the squadron commander felt increasingly nauseous as he listened.

"It seems that this man was a bad man. Here is my decision: this fall that was fatal to him is an accident. Soldiers Louis and Pierre were only defending their virtue and are therefore declared innocent. No punishment will be inflicted upon them."

Immediately, several applauses echoed on the deck, with Jean's being the loudest.

They carried René Gabin's body inside the ship, and all the sailors returned to their quarters. Dawn was not far off, but every minute of sleep was precious.

Phew, on l'a échappé belle, Louis sighed inwardly with relief. I really thought we were going to end up hanging, or worse!

Then he thought back to Anne-Sophie, particularly her lips.

I still feel the warmth of her breath on my face. Her lips… They were so soft.

Although they had escaped a grim fate, he couldn't help but repeatedly think about what he had done in the rigging. His face suddenly turned red.

Why am I reacting like this?! It's not the first time I've kissed a woman!

Indeed, he had been so popular in Corbie that he had a plethora of choices when it came to partners. He could have married the apothecary's daughter or the hatmaker's girl, the vegetable merchant's sister or the cousin of the furniture maker, but he had never really been interested.

Perhaps it was because for the first time he had been treated with indifference; this time, he showed a genuine interest in a girl.

She was rough and violent, masculine, in a way; yet, when he thought of her face, his heart raced and his body became warmer.

I must be crazy… or just strange. Am I really attracted to this kind of girl?

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The next morning, or rather a few hours later, all the sailors were gathered on the main deck.

They all wore serious expressions as if they were about to go into battle. The atmosphere was, however, more akin to what one would find inside a church.

Louis stood next to Anne-Sophie and her friends, wearing an intact shirt and a scarlet jacket adorned with all its golden buttons. A little earlier, he had sewn them back on with as much care as if it were his own jacket.

Anne-Sophie wore a profoundly indifferent expression, but her eyes betrayed her true feelings. They were cold and filled with anger. Louis had no trouble guessing the reason: she had to witness the sea burial of the bastard who had tried to rape her.

Solemnly, the squadron commander and captain of the Foudroyant arrived, holding a Bible and a few sheets of paper in his hands. As the only master on board after God, it was his duty to lead the ceremony. The cause of death was of no importance, as this man was under his responsibility.

He was dressed in the most noble manner, dignified like a god of the sea. A light breeze made the long white feathers on his black and gold tricorne and the hem of his royal blue coat dance.

The body of René Gabin, cold and stiff, was brought in silence, lying on a wide wooden plank, his arms at his sides, simply dressed in breeches and a shirt. He looked like a wax statue.

Bastard! Who would believe, seeing him like this, that he was a scoundrel? He looks so calm and innocent!

Louis showed no emotion as he watched the body pass in front of him, already half in his thick canvas sack. He had already been weighted down with an iron ball and partially sewn up. The needle rested on his chest, ready to be used to finish closing the sack.

He doesn't even deserve this prayer. On the continent, he would have ended up in a mass grave or better yet, with the pigs! That's all he deserves!

He held back from spitting on the ground and simply followed the body with his gaze.

They placed it on the deck floor and slid a small Bible, which must have belonged to him, inside the sack. Then, a sailor stepped forward and finished sewing the end of the sack. At the level of the face, as tradition dictated, they passed the long, thick needle through the nose. The one charged with the task did not flinch.

His work was very rough, but it was sufficient to prevent the body from rising to the surface once thrown into the sea.

As soon as he finished, he stepped back and returned to the other sailors, and the captain spoke while leaning on the holy book.

"In manus tuas, Domine, commendo spiritum meum." (Into your hands, Lord, I commend my spirit.)

They hoisted the embalmed body, feet facing the sea, over the railing and waited for the captain to finish his prayer for the eternal rest of the deceased.

"O Almighty and eternal God, Lord of the living and the dead, we humbly pray for the soul of your servant René Gabin, whom you have called from this life. Welcome him into your kingdom of peace, where there is no pain, nor sorrow, but eternal life. We entrust his body, delivered to the depths of the sea, and his soul, entrusted to your infinite mercy. Through Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen."

"Amen," replied the rest of the crew behind him.

With a nod, Michel-Ange Duquesne de Menneville gave his consent to throw the body.

The sailors lifted the plank, and the long weighted canvas sack slipped overboard. No one watched the body sink, but with an iron ball, there was no doubt it would soon be at the bottom of the ocean.

"Captain Lecornu," said Colonel de Bréhant in a low voice.

"Yes, Colonel?"

"You will inventory this man. In the coming days, we will proceed with an auction to the highest bidder."

"At your orders."

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The rest of the day went by like the previous days. The officers ensured that all the men aboard the Foudroyant stayed occupied, and there was no disorder.

That evening, Louis and Anne-Sophie barely spoke to avoid drawing attention to themselves. Yet, they had so much to say to each other.

The day had been long and painful for both. It felt like a torture session. Louis was unable to think of anything else. The face and voice of Anne-Sophie kept returning to his mind.

They were so close, yet he felt an immense chasm had opened between them.

It's nothing. It's just temporary. We… We need to be discreet for a while. Just for a little while. A few days at most.

The only moment they spent together was when Anne-Sophie needed to go to the latrines. But even there, they didn't speak.

Her friends had naturally noticed this change in behavior and sought to understand what was wrong, but Louis remained silent. This only worried Jules, Charles, P'tit Pol, and Jean even more.

With a heavy heart, he went to bed when it was time. He had barely spoken a word during the day.

Could it be that she hates me? Did I do something wrong?

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Quickly, darkness settled between the decks. Everything fell silent. All one could hear was the sound of the wood creaking.

From hearing it so often, no one noticed all these little creaks. This naturally included Louis, whose agitated thoughts kept him awake.

Suddenly, a hand appeared out of nowhere and pressed against his mouth.

Wh-what?!

Despite being clearly awake, he hadn't seen anyone approach. He hadn't heard anything either. He reached for the small knife he kept hidden in his pocket, but just as he was about to strike the intruder, he saw a familiar face.

Anne-Sophie?!

Barely lit, he had no trouble identifying her face. She was the only one on board with large eyes as dark as a moonless night and long black hair.

She placed a long, slender finger on her almost red lips to signal to him that he should remain silent. Then, she gestured for him to follow her.

Louis nervously looked around, but noticed no suspicious movement. Slowly, he got out of his hammock and followed the young woman, who walked strangely while carefully avoiding all the swinging hammocks from side to side. Louis felt like a spy, but it didn't bother him as much anymore, as he had already done this several times to help the young woman wash discreetly.

Cautiously, they descended to the lowest level of the warship without making a sound, and when they were sure no one had followed them, Anne-Sophie turned to Louis.

"Louis, uh, earlier, I mean, last night, you said… that… that you would like… me."

Her voice was so soft that Louis had trouble hearing her. To say it was a whisper was too generous. However, Louis nodded.

Both of them had flushed cheeks, and their breathing was ragged, as if they were in enemy territory, lost in a snowstorm, isolated in a secluded cabin.

"Yes."

The young woman nervously took his left arm and blushed even harder, her heart pounding furiously in her poor chest.

"If… Whatever happens… We…"

Anne-Sophie could no longer think clearly, even though she had spent much of the day visualizing this encounter. She timidly gazed at Louis standing in front of her. He seemed larger than a mountain. Conversely, she saw herself as smaller, more ridiculous, and more pitiful than a mouse. Her words choked in her throat as if even they were too ashamed to come out.

"Whatever happens, Anne-Sophie, I will be there for you. Even if you are discovered, even if you are sent to the other side of the world, I will come find you and I will marry you."

Two tears began to flow down her burning cheeks, and unable to hold back any longer, she rushed to kiss Louis. Immediately, the young man felt a bold tongue—daring even—meet his.

The young woman's warm, clammy hands grabbed his face, which in her eyes was the face of an angel, and without thinking about what she was doing, she set about removing Louis's coat. He allowed it and helped her take off her coat, then her red jacket.

Oh my God!

That was the only clear thought racing through Louis's mind as he removed his shirt, revealing a muscular, sweat-covered chest.

He felt the woman's lips descend onto his neck and traverse his skin like a seasoned explorer seeking to map unknown land.

He closed his eyes as if to better feel her tender kisses. His own hands caressed Anne-Sophie's back, and he even went so far as to free her long black hair. His rough fingers ran through her locks and gripped her skull as if encouraging her to continue.

Please, whatever you do, don't stop! And if this is a dream, oh God, may I never wake up!

"L-Louis…" she whispered softly in his ear.

"Y-yes?" he replied in a warm breath without releasing his embrace.

"I… I love you! I love you!" she confessed.

"Me too," Louis replied with an assurance that surprised even himself. "I love you, Anne-Sophie!"

He kissed the young woman on the neck, tenderly at first, then generously, as if he hadn't eaten in days.

Her skin is salty, a bit dirty, but… It's not unpleasant. Ah… It's her scent. Her taste. I think I'm going crazy!

The longer the seconds passed, the more their desire grew.

Then he froze.

Oh no!

Jean, his good friend, was staring at him from the supply room door, with wide eyes of astonishment and a mouth so agape that he could have swallowed a whole barrel.

"Uh… Jean!"

Sensing that something was wrong, Anne-Sophie stopped and froze as well, discovering Louis's gigantic friend in the entrance, watching them like strange animals.

"Uh…"

"Um, I didn't see anything," he said, turning around, visibly extremely embarrassed. "But be more discreet, guys. Uh, see you tomorrow."

And he disappeared as if he had never been there.

Morbleu! He… He thought I was… a bugger?!