In one of the aristocratic mansions in the Rue du Grand Cours, a marriage feast was being celebrated in honour of the nupitals between Gérard de Villefort, the Deputy Procureur Du Roi, and Renee Saint-Meran, daughter of the Marquis de Saint-Meran. The guest were assembled of the cream of Marseilles society, - magistrates, officers who had deserted from the imperial army and joined forces with Conde, and young members of families, brought up to hate and execrate the upsurer. The the room was filled with magistrates freely discussing their political views, military part of the company spoke on their view of the best tactics for the armed forces to take, while the women in the party commented on the divorce of Josephine.

The Marquis de Saint-Meran, decorated with the cross of Saint Louis, had just proposed the health of King Louis XVIII, when a messenger came into the room, and whispered a few words in Villefort's ear. Villefort immediately, begged leave of the present company, rose from table, and left the room with the excuse of urgent business. He returned shortly, a grin of delight on his young face. His future bride regarded him with fond affection - his handsome features, lit up as they were with more than usual fire and animation, seemed formed to excite the innocent admiration with which she gazed on her graceful and intelligent lover.

"I fear in my profession that there is not a day I can call my own, not even that of my betrothal," Villefort told her,kissing the back of her small hand.

"And where are you called away to just now?" asked Renee.

"For a very serious matter," he said loud enough for the nearby magistrates to hear. "If my information prove correct, a sort of Bonaparte conspiracy has just been discovered." He read to them the incriminating missive. "'It is my sad duty to inform you, sire, that one Edmond Dantès, mate of the ship, Pharaon, which has arrived this morning from Smyrna after having touched at Naples and Porto-Ferrajo, has committed treason in that he was intrusted by Murat with a letter for the usurper, and, upon delivery, further commissioned to deliver a letter by the upsurer for the Bonapartist committee in Paris. This letter will be found upon him, or at his father's, or in his cabin on board the Pharaon.' As you can see this is a most important matter." One that potential might make his career.

"Gérard do be merciful on this the day of our betrothal!" cried Renee, clasping her hands, and looking towards her lover with piteous earnestness, "

Villefort kneeled before her, "For you, my darling, I promise to show all the lenity in my power." Renee smiled radiantly and Villefort kissed her hand, before rising and leaving.

Gérard de Villefort, not making one delay or detour on his way to the public prosecutor’s office, this was a good opportunity for his career, however he told his future wife he’d show mercy – if mercy was merited. He was greeted by a magistrate on the steps leading up to the building, who saluted him excitedly. “You have the suspect, I assume,” Villefort said holding up the folded denouncement to indicate the case.

“Yes, sir,” the man fell into step beside Villefort. “He is waiting inside.”

“Any problems?”

“No. The suspect was most compliant. Said that he wanted the matter settled so he could get back to his wedding. Villefort was startled by the coincidence. Two weddings disrupted on this matter.

“Bring him to me,” Villefort order just as they arrived at the door to his office. He took a seat behind the desk and waited for Dantès to arrive. The young man that was escorted in looked scarcely old enough to shave. “Edmond Dantès? Please sit there. Now tell me do you know why you have be brought here?”

Villefort studied study _expression and word Edmond Dantès made, if the boy lied he would pick up the clues, but all the clues he received told him the young man spoke the truth – at least the truth as he knew it.

"I was summoned here this morning to investigate an accusation of treason," he said blandly. "A note was left at the office of the Procureur Du Roi, making serious charges, if I may read it…'It is my sad duty to inform you, sire, that one Edmond Dantès, mate of the ship, Pharaon, which has arrived this morning from Smyrna after having touched at Naples and Porto-Ferrajo, has committed treason in that he was entrusted by Murat with a letter for the usurper, and, upon delivery, further commissioned to deliver a letter by the usurper for the Bonapartist committee in Paris. This letter will be found upon him, or at his father's, or in his cabin on board the Pharaon.'" Villefort tossed the letter on the desk before Dantès to see for himself the accusation, the boy appeared unsettled by the content of the letter. “What say you to these accusations?”

Something Dantès’s manner made Villefort incline to believe to believe him. “I understand your obligation to fulfill your Captain’s last request... now this letter who gave it to you? Am I to understand you still have it?” If he could lay hands on the reciepient of the letter and the boy was as innocent as he claimed, then perhaps he could obey his lady’s request and still sparkle in the eyes of his superiors. A win-win situation for all.

“I’m sure you don’t,” Villefort said absently as he examined the items Dantès indicated. “But is it necessary to investigate all allegations for the public’s safety. Beyard!” The magistrate that made the arrest appeared in the door. “Are these are of the possessions you confiscated from Monsieur Dantès?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Thank you,” Villefort waved him away, without looking up. “Do you have any ideas about who might have submitted the denunciation or do know anyone who might submit such a letter out of malice?” He found the infamous letter shuffled among several other document. “Whoever the recipient of this is in a great deal of trouble.” Villefort flipped the letter over and read the name, in an instant it felt as though the blood in his veins had turned to ice.

Nortier, forever serving to torment him. What mischief was he up to now? Villefort rose and strode across the room to the window. “Do you know the man this letter was meant for?” he asked Dantès as he broke the seal on the letter. He’d read no more then the first two lines to know that that it contained treason of the worst kind. No one must know that Nortier was involved. No one must know this letter existed. He returned to his desk and lit one of the candles on it, then used it to set the corner of the letter aflame. “Have you shown this to anyone or told anyone that you have it?”

The boy was but a hapless tool, but he possessed information that could be damaging to him and his. If for some chance the name slipped out, if he told his wife to be or a friend or relation or talked while in his cups... too many chances. Dantes was the last piece of evidence of Nortier's treason and as much as Villefort despised the predicaments that his father placed him in, his name must be protected, at all cost.

"This letter could be used as evidence against you, but I believe that you have been duped into this precarious position... there is no reason you must suffer for the crimes of others. Without the letter, there is no crime. I shall visit this Monseiur..."

"Nortier," the young man provided helpfully.

"That's right. Nortier." Villefort did not meet Dantes's eyes as he wrote a letter to the govenor of the Chateau d'If. The boy was too much of a liability, and there were plenty of men like him out there so that his one dangerous voice would not be missed. Villefort would not kill him, but that voice could be silenced forever.

"There is no further reason to detain you, I am sure we would both like to go back to our bridal showers." He called for the magistrate, who entered immediately, and gave him the letter. "Please see M. Dantes on his way."

And there it was. Nortier, and he, were safe again.

He felt but a twinge of guilt, but only briefly. Compassion was typically sacrificed in favor of self-preservation. Let M. Dantes wither away and die in the prison, so long at the secret died with him - for the boy's sake, Villefort wished him a quick end. But there rose the dilemma, the other risk to his happiness - Nortier. Much against his will, he would have to check in on his father's doings.