El Impostor Espanol

Chapter 9 - The Accused

She was on her knees before him; lip curled in a snarl as her shackles rattled against the hard wood floor behind her. Having her brought to his office instead of an open reception room had been a last-minute decision and now as he stared at her; eyes wild and hair matted from fighting against his men when they'd first arrested her, he knew it was the right decision.

Hearing that she had given up fighting his Red Guards almost as fast as she had started before publicly accepting his charges of treason had been...surprising. And so here they both were; her with her snarls at the restraints holding her arms behind her and him snarling at the woman offering a cloth to sooth the piercing pain shooting through his still bleeding left eye.

"Will it heal?" He asked the woman as she wrung out the cloth again. "Tell me the truth." He snapped as she avoided his gaze and swallowed hard. "Find me soothing to cover it." He snatched the cloth from her and with a growl had her running from the room.

"If it's any consolation..." He turned his attention back to his new prisoner who was slumping at the shoulders as she watched him press the cool cloth to his eye. "...it definitely adds to your whole image of being evil."

"I wasn't asking you."

She shrugged at his dismissal and seemed to settle into her position as she realised there was little point in snarling at him. Truth be told; when they had first met, he'd occupied his spare time by picturing her strung up alongside the other insufferable Musketeers but she had grown on him.

He'd finally figured her out too, he thought smugly as her gaze flittered around the office. He hadn't been able to comprehend why such a...competent woman had elected to pledge herself to that damned regiment in the first place and then he had observed her relationship with the Musketeer Athos. Whatever had once been between them was now waning and with a few well-placed questions he'd learnt of the man's former title and suddenly understood.

Mademoiselle Antoinette Beauchamp, only child of the former Comte de Poitiers, was a fortune follower. She'd replaced her lost status after her father's death with the gullible Comte de la Fere and now that his regiment was on thin ice she'd be looking elsewhere for her future.

And the Comte de Rochefort was the man to give it to her.

The Queen's violent rejection of his love had been a wake-up call and he realised that a life with an adulterous whore was not the one he deserved, no; this specimen before him with all of her skills and experience with the Spanish was where his future lay and it was now just a matter of getting her onside.

"What did your beloved say when the charges were read?" He asked and smirked when the snarling returned. "Not the reaction you were hoping for then?"

"We both know you aren't going to formally charge me with anything."

"Is that so?" He asked, perching on the edge of his desk and looking down on her.

"I could run through the palace spilling secrets and the King would do nothing." She told him, her eyes gleaming as she smirked up at him. "I'm too valuable."

"Someone clearly thinks a lot of herself."

"Almost as much as you do." She threw him a sickly smile before jostling her shackles again. "I'm uniquely positioned within the Spanish court so that I could walk back in at any time and pick up where I left off." She reminded him. "So, you can detain me for questioning as much as you like, but we both know I'll be walking out of here a free woman."

"A free woman with no friends, no lover and no regiment." He laughed at her confused look. "You don't honestly think they'd take you back after this? Oh poor, sweet Anna." He slid onto his knees before her. "Outside these walls, you're a nobody...and an untrustworthy one at that." He fingered her hair lightly as he let the words sink in.

"You exposed me." She breathed as she met his eyes. "So what makes you think I won't tell the King everything I know?"

"Which is?"

"You love the Queen."

"Not after this." He gestured to his still covered eye; the cloth doing little to ease it. "Try again."

"You're working with the Spanish." He chuckled at her last string of hope.

"Last time you threatened to go running around with that one, you got suspended." He reminded her. "And who exactly do you think will believe that I; the King's right-hand man, was not loyal to his monarch?"

"I'll make them believe."

"Or you could just play along." He suggested, letting his hand stray from her hair to glide along her jaw. "You and I could do so much together." He whispered as he reached her chin and forced her to meet his stare. "I can give you everything you've ever wanted."

She was silent as his whispered words washed over her and he watched as an internal battle raged in her eyes before her shoulders straightened and leant in slightly, letting his thumb rub along her jaw in a tentative hold.

"Everything?"

He cupped her chin and pulled her forward, their lips barely brushing.

"Everything, Comtesse."

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Athos hadn't been able to think straight for the entire rushed ride to the palace. His mind was swirling around two facts: the Queen has been accused of treason and Anna has been arrested for the same charge.

He kept seeing the clearly written word on the paper handed to him by the Red Guards: spy. The more he thought about it, the more ludicrous it became: Anna was more patriotic than anyone he knew – she adored the King and Queen and though she often believed Louis to be a little...childish, the Queen and her were as close as could be. Spy. He sneered at the word and knew he could trace it directly back to the same man responsible for the detention of the Queen: Rochefort.

"Rochefort attacked the Queen." He shook himself from his thoughts and forced his mind on the task at hand; Anna would have to fend for herself until this matter with the Queen was sorted but then, mark his words he was going to make the Comte pay. "He tried to force himself on her." Constance told them as she led them to the Queen's chambers. "She fought him off though: wounded him."

She gave them a last look back before opening the doors to the chambers and ushering them inside.

The Queen was visibly shaking as she waved away her ladies-in-waiting and simply stared at the imposing quartet of Musketeers. She waited until the women were completely absent from the room before nodding for them to speak.

"He dared to lay hands on you?" It was no surprise to him that Aramis was the first to speak, though he noted the looks Porthos and D'Artagnan were shooting their friend for speaking so casually to Her Majesty.

"I trusted him." She told them. "I thought he was my friend."

"The King has been informed?" D'Artagnan asked as they took in the woman's paled face and nervous wringing of her hands. She took a breath before meeting their eyes each in turn before settling on his own as the unofficial leader of the foursome.

"My loyal Musketeers will escort me." She told him and with a nod he turned and gestured for Porthos and D'Artagnan to lead the Queen away, hanging back to shoot the lingering Constance a questioning glance.

"Rochefort knows everything about you and the Queen." He wanted to scream and shout at the whispered information but instead met Aramis' solemn gaze and took a deep breath before entering the corridor and catching up to the Queen.

Aramis said nothing at his side but he knew the man's mind was working itself into a frenzy; he didn't blame him, his own was doing the same.

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"Get out of the way." Porthos was not a man to be argued with on the best of occasions but now, as he stalked towards the King's rooms, snarling at every Red Guard they passed; only a fool would question him.

"The King is not accepting visitors." Apparently they found the fool, Athos thought as the Musketeers came to a halt just on the border of the King's chambers and faced a group of Red Guards.

"This is not a visitor: it's the Queen!" He shouted, moving aside to show them the woman in the centre of the Musketeer guard. "Open the door."

There was no movement from the Guard Captain and Porthos and D'Artagnan parted seamlessly to allow the royal woman through as she marched towards the man.

"Do as he says." She ordered, her fists tight as he gave her a once over before refusing to move. "How dare you defy me!"

Their swords were drawn in an instant at the threat this Captain now posed to the Queen.

"Open the doors or we'll kill you and open them ourselves." D'Artagnan promised as he and Porthos retook their positions in front of the Queen.

The Captain lingered on their ready swords for only a second before stepping back and forcing his men to carve a path towards the reception room the King currently occupied.

The doors were thrown open in an instant and the Queen strode forward, ahead of her guards and into the large room.

"You dare bring an armed guard into my presence?!"

The King was shaking with anger as he turned on his wife; her dramatic entrance into the chamber doing little for her defence regarding the matter at hand. Athos eyed the tightly gripped slip of paper in his hand as he seethed.

"I must speak with you Sire."

"You must indeed Madame." Louis agreed, his lip curled slightly at her presence and the defensive wall the Musketeers had formed behind her.

"Whatever Rochefort told you is all lies!" Aramis exclaimed as the man in question turned to face them all; his new eyepatch a prominent feature as he sneered at them. That would be the wound the Queen delivered, Athos mused as he studied the strip of leather protecting the Comte's left eye.

"Am I to be shouted at now?" The King asked, silencing Aramis and forcing him back into line with his comrades. "Do you deny that you wrote this letter?" He thrust the scrunched piece of paper at his wife. "Is this your hand? Your royal seal?"

All arguments vanished from the Queen as she took the letter and scanned its contents.

"The Queen wrote to her brother the King of Spain even though Your Majesty expressly forbade her to do so." Rochefort said, sliding into his place at the King's side.

"It was months ago." Anne told him. "When you were captured by slavers." He snatched the letter from his wife, a new rage in his eyes as the betrayal was confirmed.

"You invited foreign troops onto the sovereign soil of France?!"

This was far more complicated than they'd thought; the issue of Rochefort attacking the Queen wasn't being mentioned and Athos fought the curling of his fists as he realised this had been Rochefort's plan all along – nothing the Queen said would be believed now.

"You might have been dead." She tried to explain. "My only thought was to protect your son, the Dauphin."

"In any other of our subjects this might be called treason!"

There was that word again. He'd heard no whisper of Anna since they'd arrived and he was sure the Queen would know of a Musketeer imprisonment even under these circumstances. The palace had eyes and ears everywhere and so it was...concerning to hear nothing of the woman.

"It was Rochefort who advised the Queen to write to Spain." Constance said, moving from the doorway to address the King. Athos felt his head droop slightly as she spoke – the defence of a newly widowed woman employed by the Queen would do absolutely nothing.

They needed the testimony of someone the King actually acknowledged – they needed Anna.

"This girl is either a fantasist or a liar." Rochefort said, turning sideways to address the King. His stance was as much a show of loyalty as theirs was.

"Your Majesty, she was there, she witnessed every word." It was D'Artagnan who stepped forward this time to defend his love and Athos knew it was time he stepped in; the only one who wouldn't let emotions cloud him.

"Your Majesty should listen to the Queen." He pushed forward to stride from his place behind the Queen to stand with her. "You can't trust this man." He pointed definitively to Rochefort as the Comte stared him down.

"Can't trust him?" Louis asked. "He is the only one I can trust!" He exclaimed. "The truth of this is confirmed not only by past events where Rochefort is the only person to not disappoint me...but also by one of this country's finest." He waved someone forward from his crowd of councillors. "Tell them."

"The Comte de Rochefort has no-one but the King's best interests at heart."

Athos felt his mouth go bone dry at the sight of her. The Musketeer uniform she'd been hauled off in was replaced by something that even his nightmares couldn't have conjured.

The leather of her breeches was like a second skin around her legs as she stepped forward; the crowd of men parting for her. The uniform was entirely black, nothing like the browns she wore as a Musketeer, and was clearly designed to emphasise the fact that she was a woman, not hide it as her blues once had. Her waist was cinched in by a corset top made entirely of damask with silver buckles holding it together over a jet-black shirt.

Every step she took highlighted something different; how the matte leather contrasted with the cotton shirt and its billowing sleeves, how the buckles caught the sunlight and shone like medals, how her feet were clad in heeled boots that bled seamlessly up over her breeches.

She was a vision and it made him sick.

"Anna." The Queen's voice was a mix of shock and betrayal as the woman stopped at Rochefort's side. "How could you?"

It was exactly what he wanted to ask but found he couldn't; the question had dried up along with every other thought in his head as he studied her – the slight curl in her hair as it hung around her face, the slow smile she offered the Queen and the red. His eyes kept coming back to the red. The single pendant sat against her collar bone and the supple lips he knew so well were blood red and taunted him as his stomach twisted and every thought of being able to control himself vanished.

Where was she? Was his Anna hiding somewhere under those clothes?

He knew Rochefort was watching him; studying for a reaction, but he wouldn't give it despite how much he wanted to scream.

"Rochefort and Mademoiselle Beauchamp are the only people I can trust." The King repeated. "It is their work and their work alone that has saved us time and time again and in them I know our dear Cardinal is watching over me still." His voice broke slightly as he spoke of his beloved Richelieu.

Never had Athos been gladder that he was dead.

"Go." Louis ordered.

"But...sire..."

"I can hardly bear to look at you." He turned from his wife and began to move from them. "You Musketeers, return to your garrison." He called behind him as he left the room.

Anne turned and fled in the opposite direction; Constance and Aramis hot on her heels as D'Artagnan and Porthos lingered only for a moment.

Athos found his feet moving of their own accord as he caught a flash of a smirk cross Rochefort's face. A single glance over his shoulder showed the blonde Comte place a single hand on the small of Anna's back just as the double doors to the chamber closed and sealed them apart.

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Heels clicking on the parquet flooring of the palace, Anna wound her way through the endless corridors towards the ruckus that had broken out almost immediately after the Queen and her entourage had left the King.

"You all need to learn some respect!" Her stride quickened at Porthos' shout and gesturing behind her she ushered a group of Red Guards ahead to try and quell whatever disagreement that had broken out.

She rounded the final corner alone as her new regiment engaged the quartet of Musketeers.

They were brawling in the short stretch of corridor leading to the Queen's suite of rooms. The Red Guards lining the way had obviously pissed one of them off and now fists were flying between the warring regiments.

"Break it up." She's barely raised her voice to issue the command but the effect was instantaneous; the Red Guards stiffened before stepping away from their foes and falling back into neat lines. "I believe you were ordered to return to your regiment, not brawl with palace guards." She fought to keep her tone bored and her eyes away from the betrayed looks in the Musketeers eyes. "Are you denying the King's direct command?" She felt her stomach turn as she met Queen Anne's gaze.

"There must be no suggestion that our faithful Musketeers are disloyal." Anna was sure that if it had been deemed proper, the Queen would have actually spat at her.

"Too late for that, Madame." Her hand slid to the sword at her waist as a new voice joined the fray. She hadn't heard him approach; had no idea how long he'd been behind her and she was glad then, that she had stayed fully in character during this brief encounter.

"You will address me as Your Majesty!" She'd never seen Anne so angry, so hurt. It was heart-breaking.

"You will die for this." She barely looked at Aramis as he strode towards her and Rochefort. "You will both die for this."

"I know what you are, Musketeer." Rochefort sneered as Porthos, D'Artagnan and Constance shot her identical looks of hatred. "What you are and what you've done."

"If the Queen comes to any harm; you will pay for it with your blood." It took a heartbeat for her to realise that Athos' threat was aimed directly at her and not the blonde behind her. A simple blink had him shoving past her with a growl of disbelief and she felt her heart deflate at the line of Musketeers refusing to look at her as they stormed past.

She held her head high as their footsteps faded and merely stared down Constance and the Queen as they turned and slammed the doors of the royal suite behind them.

Rochefort was too unhinged now to let a chink in her armour go un-noticed.

This was her most challenging role mission yet; infiltrate not just a royal court but the innermost circle of a man who himself was a spy. She had no commander for this and knew that by the time the Musketeers returned to the Garrison she would have no friends in that regiment.

She was alone for this; her most dangerous yet most important mission, for if she failed at this...they would all die.

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He was still shaking. His hands were balled into fists at his side as he followed his friends through Paris, but they were still shaking.

She had betrayed them. Him. France.

The soft blink of her eyes in response to his parting words had broken something inside of him. Even after spending so long apart in those five years after they'd joined the regiment, he'd never even questioned where her loyalties lay. But now; bedecked in the Cardinal's favourite shade of red with Rochefort at her side and not even a furrow of her brow at the thought of the Queen being harmed...

"Rochefort knows." He forced his eyes from his boots and up into Aramis' drawn face. The distress in his friend's eyes was enough to make him stem his line of thought and focus instead on the immediate threat.

"If Rochefort's advances to the Queen were treason, what does that make yours?"

Aramis paused for a moment, his sudden stop catching the attention of Porthos and D'Artagnan as they rounded back to their stalled friends.

"Love."

"I'm sure the King will appreciate the difference."

"What's going on?" Porthos asked as he and D'Artagnan reached them.

Athos merely watched as Aramis played with his gloves and licked at his lips in an effort to avoid answering his best friends question.

"You created this mess; tell them." Athos said, verbally nudging him forward.

Aramis nodded once before glancing around at the bustling street surrounding them.

"Not here." He told them. "Somewhere with no ears."

____________________________________________________________

He could see her everywhere he looked: a pair of women's gloves on their table, a neatly made bed and a small vase of flowers under the window. The air even smelt like her; a delicate waft of whatever it was she used every morning hit him as he opened the door to their shared room.

He stepped aside as four Musketeers filed in before bolting the door closed behind Treville who they'd collected on the way to Athos' private lodgings.

The men took up varying positions in the room; D'Artagnan at the foot of their bed with his back to the window, Porthos leaning against the wall nearest the door, Aramis opposite with his arms crossed and head bowed while Treville simply watched them all expectantly.

"Well?" The former Captain asked as Athos took a single step forward to stand next to him. "What's this all about?"

Athos fixed his stare onto Aramis who simply fidgeted and refused to meet anyone's eyes. Athos heaved a sigh but was secretly glad for this meeting; the thought of returning to this room, their home, alone was one that would have required copious amounts of wine and would likely have led to the destruction of quite a few items of furniture.

"Aramis slept with the Queen."

There was a beat of silence as Treville's jaw dropped and D'Artagnan and Porthos' heads snapped to the silent Musketeer.

"You're not serious?" Treville asked, his eyes pleading for Athos to tell them it was a joke.

"Would he joke about such a thing?" Aramis asked, his voice hoarse as all eyes returned to him.

"How? When?" Porthos asked.

"At the convent when her life was threatened." Aramis told him, meeting his eye and offering a half smile as Porthos continued to stare at him in utter confusion and hurt.

"You didn't try to stop it?"

"If I'd known what he was going to do, I would have shot him there and then." Athos assured his Captain. "What's done is done."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Porthos' stare hadn't moved from his best friend and Athos knew that he would be the one who felt Aramis' choice to keep this from them the hardest.

"I had to protect the Queen's reputation."

"You could've done that by not sleeping with her." Athos fought a laugh at D'Artagnan's comment; as much as he liked the lad, he wasn't exactly the paragon of preserving a married woman's reputation.

The room fell silent again as the three men digested the news.

"There's more." He heard himself say as Aramis sighed.

"The Dauphin might be my son." He told them before shaking his head and correcting himself. "Is my son."

Treville merely threw his hands up in disbelief as he turned from Aramis while Porthos pushed from the wall and had two handfuls of Aramis' collar in a second. The pair simply stared at each other; Aramis' feet almost off the ground as Porthos struggled to understand everything.

Athos merely watched the pair, signalling for D'Artagnan to stay put; they needed to sort this themselves.

Slowly but surely, Porthos released him; the tension leaving him as he pulled Aramis forward into a hug. It was exactly what Athos had hoped would happen. He knew that it would take a while for Porthos to fully forgive Aramis but...he would always be there for his friends and the pain in Aramis' face was clear for everyone to see as he spoke of his son.

He'd also guessed that Treville would be the one to separate them and with a hand on eithers chest he pushed them apart, forcing Aramis back against the wall.

"You are speaking of the next King of France!" He seethed, pushing Porthos further back to give him space to round on Aramis.

"You can't be certain that he is your son." D'Artagnan said, rubbing a weary hand over his face.

"I know he is."

"Aramis..." The sigh of disbelief was echoed by Porthos and Treville.

"And still more." Athos added; Treville's head snapping to him with an arched brow as if to ask what exactly could be worse. "Rochefort knows."

The silence that followed this time was deathly. There was no disbelief only cold, hard fear for their friend.

"Does she know?" Athos didn't even need to ask who Porthos was referring to as the large man's jaw tightened.

"Yes." He all but whispered.

"Then there's nothing to be done..." D'Artagnan said as Treville released Aramis to glance around them all confusedly. "...he's dead."

"What are you talking about?" Treville asked as Aramis' head fell back into the wall in defeat. "Who else knows?"

"Anna." Aramis told him. "She was at the convent too and-"

"Anna won't say a word." Treville told them. "She's loyal to a fault and would die for any of you four."

"We thought so too." Porthos huffed. "And then we saw her at the palace."

"The palace? Is this about that arrest warrant? I thought she'd have dealt with that by now; the King-"

"Seems to have supported Rochefort's decision to make her deputy of the Red Guards." Treville's eyes fixed on D'Artagnan as the boy spoke. Athos could almost hear the man's brain whirring as he tried to figure out what was going on.

"She's with him." Athos told him as Treville slowly turned. "I don't know how or why or how long...but she's with him and against us."

"But Anna..." Treville tailed off. "She wouldn't...she couldn't..."

"She is." Porthos told him. "I knew something wasn't right; it hasn't been for a while but I never thought..."

"What's that?" Athos asked, cutting across Treville as he saw D'Artagnan frown at something before reaching over the bed to lift a piece of paper from the sheets.

"It's...a story?" He frowned at the paper before walking over to the group of men and heading Athos the sheet.

He stared down at the familiar handwriting and frowned at the single sheet in confusion: The Story of the Border Brothers.

"I have no idea what it is." He told him happily passing it over to Treville's outstretched hand. Their frowns deepened when the man let out a huff of laughter.

"What is it?" Porthos asked.

"The reason she can't tell you anything; it's the only clue she could leave you without being dragged to the gallows herself."

He glanced around the room and let a soft smile fall onto his lips as he read from the sheet.

"Once upon a time..."

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...on the outskirts of France, a Frenchman fell in love with a woman who was passing through his village. The couple were ostracised from society, and, upon their marriage, they fled to a small free-holding on the outskirts of France. Years later, the couple were blessed with twin boys who soon grew into strong young men and enlisted in the French military.

The boys spent many a year in uniform before returning to their parents, medals gleaming proudly on their chests. But as their mother fell ill, they knew that they had to stay and could not return to their beloved capital.

Remaining in the countryside, the boys watched as their mother grew weaker and weaker. One day, she pulled her children close to her and whispered the secret she and her husband had kept from them; her chance encounter with the love of her life was all because she was fleeing her family...she was Spanish. Days later, as they buried their mother in the soil of her adopted country, the boys thought back to their time in Paris, and recalled how the country's leaders were having difficulty placing operatives in the enemy nation.

Uniting to assist their beloved country, one brother secured building materials, the other returned to their former Captain and explained their plan: two houses were to be built, identical to their childhood home, on opposite sides of a field that was known to house the France/Spain border right through its centre.

So, for the first time in their lives, the brothers parted, knowing they would never be able to spend time together again. The eldest of the twins resided on the French side of the field, while the youngest made a home in Spain.

The first brother, older only by minutes, would on occasion receive men from the capital and house them for a night before escorting them through the field to the second brothers house. The guests would be led up to an unused bedroom and encouraged to change into whatever fashion was most prominent in their intended destination as the eldest brother left and returned to his farmhouse. The second brother would hand over any identification papers needed by the guest before escorting them through the rural countryside and depositing them as close as they could get without being seen.

Monthly, the brothers would each drag a chair to the centre of the field, maintaining the invisible line between them and pass letters to each other. The younger brother would hand over a sealed envelope with his address emblazoned upon it and the eldest would open it to reveal another envelope addressed to somewhere in Paris as he handed over the necessary documents for their next guest.

Each man devoted his life to serving France and helping their fellow man across into Spain for intelligence gathering.

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"I don't understand." Aramis said, pushing off the wall to glance at the sheet. "It's just a story."

"It's the truth." Treville told them, moving to take a seat at the small table in Athos and Anna's room. "It's her truth."

He set the sheet onto the table top and spared a second to glance around the room. He couldn't believe he'd doubted her, even for a second. She'd said she was going to tell them but with everything that had happened, he couldn't blame her for keeping it quiet; it wasn't exactly something that could be blurted out.

But it was time they knew and he hoped he did her story justice.

"Anna was a spy."

He let the four words hang in the air as his eyes settled on Athos. He'd wondered why the man had seemed more down than usual when they'd appeared at the Garrison and his Lieutenant had mumbled something about following them. Seeing Anna at Rochefort's side must have killed him but now, now he hoped this would explain it all.

"What do you mean, she was a spy?" Aramis asked, head snapping up. "A spy for who?"

"Us; France." Treville told him as Athos slid into the seat opposite him. "In the Spanish court."

"Anna...our Anna; the woman who couldn't keep D'Artagnan's birthday party a secret...was a spy?" Porthos asked, a deep crease between his brows. "No offence, Captain; but you're gonna have to give us more than that."

"About five years ago I sent Anna across the border and into France using these brothers." He told them, gesturing to the story. "She was able to infiltrate the court and get close to the King. We heard rumour that Vargas was looking for a mole in the court after a few pieces of key information made its way to us and we were able to act before anything war-inducing happened...so I pulled her out and used here in France instead."

"That's when I was couriering orders back and forth to her." Athos mused, his hand running through his hair.

"Exactly." Treville nodded, noting how the other three men were silently exchanging looks. "But then, two years later...I sent her back in. She spent 20 months posing as the King's favourite mistress and sent us more information about his plans than we've ever received before. She was invaluable to us but we knew that we couldn't stretch her too thin; vultures were circling again and the King wanted her out with an order to leave only when she had a story good enough so she may one day return."

"She was a spy." Aramis breathed.

"When she returned she did a bit more work through France before I recalled her to Paris...she's been here ever since."

"So why is she with Rochefort?" Porthos asked. "If she's so loyal...I've seen things, Captain." He sighed. "Things that don't add up."

"What things?"

"So much." He shot Athos an apologetic look before turning to Treville. "They've been meeting in secret since he arrived in Paris. I asked her about it but she said it was nothing and then in the old fort at Chatillon when we were locked together; he couldn't stop talking about her...I've known something wasn't right but..."

"You don't know for sure-"

"What about when she was kicking Milady de Winter from the palace?" Porthos pressed, focusing on Athos. Treville watched as the man shifted in his seat; a flurry of conflicting emotions clear in his usually guarded eyes. "You saw how they were together; like they were old friends."

"The King said she and Rochefort made 'quite the team' when the Dauphin was ill." D'Artagnan reminded them as Treville watched Aramis pale at the thought of the Prince...his son...being that close to death. He shook his head as he tried once again to figure exactly how Aramis had managed to keep that a secret and tuned back into D'Artagnan. "And it's not the first time he's publicly praised them both."

"Athos...Captain..." Porthos began. "...as much as I want to trust her; I don't think we can anymore." He said. "You saw her today; she was more at ease than I've seen her in months...how do we know she wasn't turned while in Spain?"

They fell silent again and Treville wanted to scream. He knew in his heart that she would never betray them but it was all stacking up against her and he just wanted to grab her and ask why she didn't tell him anything? He could have helped her. He glanced back to the story she'd left in a desperate attempt to get them to trust her but...he understood their situation. As far as the world knew; she was a Red Guard now and he could do little to disprove it.

He ran his fingers over the note, staring at its rushed words and hoping that one of them could still believe in her. His fingers stilled as he noticed something and immediately cut across whatever fresh evidence Porthos was presenting.

"What if she told you herself?" He asked, looking up from the note. "What if she left a message?"

"She hasn't." Athos told him; his voice completely devoid of emotion. "She just let them arrest her and the next we saw she was in a new uniform with Rochefort's hands on her.

"But what if she has?" He pushed the note towards his Lieutenant and pointed down the side of it.

"I don't-"

"Read." He insisted and watched as a flash of realisation broke out over Athos' features as he saw what Treville had seen.

"What is it?" D'Artagnan asked as the three others crowded around them. Treville turned the note to them and pointed to the start of every paragraph individually.

"Ignore the first one and what do the letters spell?"

"My god." Aramis breathed as they too read her secret note: T R U S T M E

____________________________________________________________

The Dauphin was gurgling in her arms as Anna crossed from the baby's new nursery in the King's adjoining room. It had almost killed her to instruct Marguerite to remove the child from the Queen and place him in the care of his father.

She had been able to do nothing but watch as the governess whisked the child away and Anne crumpled before her. With Rochefort watching from the doorway she hadn't been able to take the Queen in her arms and whisper a plea for forgiveness as she'd wanted, and instead was forced to curl her lip into a sneer at the small sob that left the bereft mother.

They were all here now; in the King's chambers where His Majesty was laying across a chaise complaining of a headache while Rochefort watched on. Apparently, the only person who couldn't sense the tension brewing was Lemay as he happily mixed a remedy for the King.

"Two drops of this medicine in some wine should ease the headache, Your Majesty." He told Louis as he followed his own instructions and let two droplets of the clear liquid fall into a waiting goblet. "But you must rest." He added, handing the King his drink.

"How can I when those I trust betray me?" Louis asked, sitting up and taking a long drag of the drink.

"I'll see the King is not disturbed." Rochefort said. Anna felt his gaze fall onto her as with a few quick whispers to the baby; he quieted and nestled in to her.

"Allow me to examine that." Lemay recaptured their attention as he approached Rochefort and gestured to his eyepatch.

"No need."

"There might be some risk of infection."

"You can go now." She said, startling the doctor with her brashness. "His Majesty and the Comte are fine." She knew the doctor noted the pleased smile Rochefort shot her as the man packed away his equipment and hastily bid them a good day.

"The Queen has always been so loyal." Louis sighed as the doors sealed behind Lemay, leaving just him, Rochefort, Anna and the Dauphin in the room. "She must have been distracted out of her wits." He added and Anna thought back a handful of months to when the King had been abducted by slavers. She was so stupid to have not been here; at the palace and paying full attention to what Rochefort was doing to a distraught Queen. "She's been very foolish. But...but perhaps she was just thinking of the Dauphin."

"She must be brought to account." Rochefort reminded him, stepping in front of the King to block his view as the man tried to elicit a smile from his son. "Her treason put the country in danger."

"If anyone else spoke of her like that, I would have his head!"

"Forgive me, sire. My loyalty got the better of me. I was only thinking... of France."

"But I suppose you're right." He sighed and drained his glass. "She must be punished." He placed it onto his side table and resumed his sprawled position on the chaise. "Let her think I'm still angry for now and later, I will forgive her bad judgment."

Anna watched as Rochefort merely bowed in response; the picture of obedience before his King. She wanted to be sick. This was the closest she'd ever gotten to Rochefort and it was her first time seeing him interact one-on-one with the King. She couldn't believe how easily he was playing him.

"Can we trust the governess?" Louis asked, tilting his head to look at her. "Is my son safe with her?"

"I approved her myself, Your Majesty." She reminded him, taking a step forward to place the child back into his line of sight. "And Rochefort has been monitoring her; I believe your son will be in good hands."

"Excellent: you may return him to her now I have your approval." He waved to the baby and grinned when the child tried to copy. "I feel so at ease with you both at my side." He sighed. "You make an excellent pair."

"I couldn't agree more, Sire." Rochefort said, smirking slightly as she avoided his gaze to coo at the Dauphin again.

"A hunting accident you say?" Louis asked, focusing on Rochefort's eyepatch. "I like it; it's very piratical."

"My quarry fought harder than I expected." Rochefort told him and Anna felt her stomach flip.

Of course she knew what had happened with the Queen; she had ears everywhere. but she was trying to ignore it for now; she had bigger things to deal with and couldn't afford to let rage consume her and scupper all her plans.

She only hoped Athos got her note.

____________________________________________________________

His mind was still reeling from what Treville had revealed to them: Anna was a spy. And a good one at that, apparently.

Looking back over the years it was starting to make sense; lengthy periods away with tasks she couldn't talk about, a considerable knowledge of how to get around France, a closeness with the monarchs that even he, the Lieutenant of the Musketeers didn't share, and the ability to speak Spanish as well as, if not better than, Aramis.

And then there was the note. Trust me. He wanted to. He so wanted to. But there was still something nagging at him. She knew everything about him; probably more than he knew about himself and yet she had kept this from him.

He understood a little; she'd be executed for treason if it ever got out but they were living together now and he was ready. Go he was so ready for more.

They'd spent years being together but not being together and since Pinon he had an urge to take another step. Perhaps it was the sight of Thomas' tomb after all these years; untouched by time while the world had continued to move on, or the fact his people still adored her...

He told himself it was the fact that she'd been lying to him for five years that he was drinking so heavily. But he knew he was lying. He knew it was because he was afraid that now he knew, things would never be the same between them.

Porthos was taking this hard. First Aramis had been lying to him and now his suspicions about Anna were true. Forgiveness would be hard for the man and Athos had to question whether he would be able to offer it when he next saw her too.

He was angry. He realised it now as he finished another cup of wine. He was so damn angry at her for putting herself in this position with no one at her back.

She may never walk away from this. Rochefort wasn't exactly the most sane of men and with the Queen firmly out of reach now he could see how the Comte's appreciation of Anna had grown. If she put one step wrong, she'd die.

"You look cheery." His head snapped up from his empty glass as she spoke. "Learnt some hard truths, have we?" She glanced to the item in his hand, the one he had been absentmindedly playing with as he attempted to organise his thoughts, and he closed his fist around it. "Struggling to forgive? Isn't this very déjà vu?" He watched as her hand toyed with the band of green ribbon around her throat. "I assume there's a reason you asked for this meeting?"

"You've been close to the King and Rochefort; tell me what information you have on him."

"Straight to the point as ever." She sighed, rolling her eyes as two pair of footsteps approached her from behind. "Am I so fearsome you need reinforcements?" He merely arched a brow at her before pushing from his seat and leading her to the small backroom of the inn with Treville and D'Artagnan following behind as he slipped the delicate ring from his hand into his pocket.

"Look, whatever your price is, we will pay it." Treville told her as they entered the backroom and Milady happily leant against the windowsill.

"The Queen's life may depend on what you know." D'Artagnan added as she merely smiled at Treville. Her grin faded and she pushed off from the sill.

"My God." She breathed, glancing around at them all. "This isn't about the Spanish letters...it's about Aramis and the Queen." He didn't need to ask to know it was Rochefort who had told her. "So, it is true." She mused, striding to stand in the centre of the triangle formation they'd fallen into. "Just think what information like this might be worth."

"I told you she can't be trusted."

"Oh, I have no loyalty to Rochefort." She laughed as D'Artagnan turned away from her with a sneer. "The man is insane." She added. "You want the same deal she did." She mused and Athos frowned. "You didn't know?" She asked. "Not surprising though since you didn't know whose side she was on either." She laughed. "Anna came to me with the same question a while ago, but refused my price. I'm quite glad now; it means I get to sell it to you."

"With a hefty price tag, no doubt." Athos drawled, watching as she flashed him a grin and slowly strode over to him.

"Well, what else would you expect from a woman like me?" She asked, batting her eyelashes as they stood practically chest-to-chest.

"You disgust me." She laughed at D'Artagnan's comment and stepped back.

"Meanwhile, the King is bouncing another man's child on his knee." She turned to D'Artagnan. "Your morality will not stand, Musketeer."

"How do we know you won't betray us?"

"You don't. then again, you didn't know that dear Anna would betray you either, yet you stuck with her until the proof was undeniable." She chuckled again before taking a moment and delivering her information in a single breath. "Rochefort is a Spanish agent: he has been in the pay of the Madrid spy-master Vargas ever since his return and despite what you long to believe, Anna is not who you thought she was."

____________________________________________________________

"I never meant to keep any secrets from you." Aramis said as he and Porthos reclined against the bannisters of the stairs leading to the Captain's office at the Garrison. "But you must understand why I had to."

The burly Musketeer said nothing, just brought his cup to his lips and drank deeply. Aramis understood. Porthos was always going to be the one who took the revelation the hardest.

He had almost told him so many time through Anne's pregnancy and then once his son had been born and Anna had gifted him with that one quick look, there hadn't been a day when he hadn't wanted to tell him.

"Do you love her?" Porthos asked.

"If she were an ordinary woman..." Aramis sighed. "...it might be possible, but she isn't."

"You have a child." Porthos breathed as though realising it for the first time.

Aramis wondered what he saw when he looked at him now; did he still see his best friend or would this forever sit between them?

"I should have just walked away, but...I've never met a woman like her: her courage, her endurance, her kindness." He smiled at the memory of their night together and every stolen moment since. "And she needed me."

He didn't know how many nights since had been spent wondering what their lives would have been like if she were just another woman. He could picture their home with its roaring fires and his boy playing at his feet. But he knew that if she were just another woman that he'd met at the market, there wouldn't have been the same pull; he was drawn to her because she was who she is.

"If you really love her, there's one thing you can do to prove it..." Porthos said, breaking him from his reverie. "Deny it ever happened." He felt a rush of air leave him at Porthos' unexpectedly harsh words delivered so softly. "That boy is the King's son, Aramis. That can't change...no matter what."

____________________________________________________________

He couldn't breathe. He was trying but it wasn't working and every little intake of air through his nose was going nowhere. He could see that Treville and D'Artagnan were equally shocked but...he didn't know why but he believed her. 100%. Who else would know all of this?

Not just about Rochefort, he was sure they could have dug that up themselves if they'd had more time but...he knew Milady had been at the palace this morning. He'd seen her as they were leaving so she would know...know where Anna's loyalties lay.

Was he wrong about her? Could she have turned on them all? Treville still refused to believe so but...

"Why would the Spanish attack a Spanish Queen?" D'Artagnan asked and Athos took a moment to realise that he and Treville had drawn chairs closer to Milady. "What do they gain?"

"Ambassador Perales never believed in Vargas' scheme." She told them as Athos moved to take a seat on the table he had been leaning against. He couldn't focus on Anna now; he needed to be on top form to figure out how to stop Rochefort. "That's why Rochefort ordered his death."

"How can you know that?"

"Because it was me who killed him."

Of course it was. He thought to himself. Why hadn't he considered this before? It was obvious; who else would someone in the palace go to if they needed an Ambassador killed?

"You know the captain lost his position because of you." D'Artagnan spat, launching himself from his seat to pace.

"D'Artagnan, let me worry about that." The boy waved away his Captain as Athos fixed his focus on Milady.

"I should have guessed: the murder had your hallmark."

"I did what I had to do: Rochefort knew too much and was going to expose me to the King." She said, head high. "I won't apologise."

"I don't expect you to." He huffed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Is that what Anna will say too? I did what I had to do? He shook his head again to clear the thought.

"None of this helps us destroy Rochefort, we need proof of his guilt." D'Artagnan reminded them.

"I can get you inside the palace." Milady said, their heads snapping back to her. "I've got a friend in a position of power on the inside: they'll be able to show you where he keeps his most important documents. There might be something incriminating amongst them."

"Can we trust your 'friend'?" Athos asked and he watched as Milady chewed her lip for a nervous second. He'd never seen her unsure about a decision.

"We made a deal." She told him. "And despite everything...I trust them."

"All right." Treville agreed. "But our immediate priority is the Queen's safety. We have to get her away from him."

____________________________________________________________

Athos made a mental note to increase the amount of guards covering the edges of the palace gardens when all of this was over. It was a joke how easy Milady had been able to get through a gap in a wall and then a hedge and lead not just him but D'Artagnan, Aramis and Porthos trough the gardens until they were only a few hundred yards away from the palace itself.

Five people, and the guards hadn't seen or heard a thing.

He chose not to dwell on how many others knew of this and how often Milady had snuck onto palace grounds. Yes, they definitely needed tighter security.

It was bordering on ridiculous now, they simply descended a set of stone steps with three guards mere metres away, and no one had turned. He could have led an entire orchestra past, still playing, and no one would have noticed.

The moved through the hedges until they came to small clearing far away from any patrol where a gated arch stood out clearly against the pale bricks of the palace.

It hadn't even been locked. He was half tempted to go back and cause a fuss just to get some movement out of Rochefort's patrols but as Helene produced a book of matches from the folds of her cloak and promptly lit a lantern that had been waiting at the gate, he elected to simply follow her into the pitch black tunnels as Porthos sealed the gate behind them all.

They were silent as they followed the flicker of light around corners and down corridors until the gate they had entered through was a mere memory.

He opened his mouth to ask exactly how she was so familiar with these tunnels when a shadow moved slightly in the distance. He reached out and tugged Milady back by the hood of her cloak as the men around him reached for their rapiers; clearly having spotted the movement too.

"What are you doing?" Milady asked, frowning as D'Artagnan winced at the volume of her voice. He gestured ahead to where he had seen the flicker and Milady simply rolled her eyes. "They think you're Rochefort." She called out, lifting the lantern higher.

"I've played my part well then." The darkness replied and he felt his heart skip a beat as Helene flashed him a smile before stepping forward and letting her lantern illuminate the person waiting for them.

He saw her foot first. Just one; resting on the stone floor of the tunnels. The light slowly moved up the figure, showing skin tight leather breeches and her second leg bent with her foot resting on the wall behind her. A fitted crimson tunic that grazed the top of her thighs was next to appear as the flame moved up over black clad arms that rested on the top of a ruby hilted rapier.

Her head was leant back against the wall too, but tilted to them as she finally came into full view.

"It's concerning how no one questioned a change to the patrol pathways in the gardens." She mused, her lips still painted that blood red as they stretched into a smile. "Made getting you lot in here much easier though, so who am I to complain?" She pushed off the wall and stood in the centre of the tunnel facing them.

No one had moved and Milady was simply smirking at him.

"You're a spy." He wasn't sure who had spoken first, but he was glad someone had broken the silence.

"I am."

"For Rochefort." The voice added and he began to recognise it as D'Artagnan.

"For France." She clarified. "Did you not get my note?"

____________________________________________________________

They were still staring at her. She could see the conflict in the eyes of Porthos, Aramis and D'Artagnan while Helene continued to grin and Athos...dear Athos was just letting his eyes slide up and down her body.

Being Rochefort's pet had very few perks, in fact, it only had two; being able to listen in on him whenever she wanted and an admittedly gorgeous new uniform (she was stealing the breeches once this was all over): the red tunic had elicited more than a mere grin from Rochefort when she'd first stepped out in it an hour ago, but the glint in his eye had simply spurred her on to get the Musketeers inside the palace walls as fast as possible.

She wasn't exactly sure how Helene had managed to get the message to her, but she'd done all that was asked of her and cleared the way for the men to sneak through the garden and then the tunnels.

But they apparently hadn't caught up yet; they hadn't figured out that she was behind it all and was most definitely on their side.

"We need to keep moving if you want to get the Queen out before nightfall but I'm more than happy to answer any questions along the way." She told them with a half-smile.

That seemed to spur them on as Porthos gave a sharp nod and Milady began leading them forward again.

"Tell us everything." Athos instructed, his voice tight.

"Not really a question..." Milady drawled and Anna sent her a glare.

"I can give you the highlights." She offered, falling into step with Helene before rattling off all she knew. "I'm going to assume that Treville told you about Spain and what I did so I'll save the full story of that for another time...I've had my suspicions about Rochefort since you brought him to Paris." She began. "And then when we returned from rescuing General de Foix, he told me that he knew who I was and what I did and then proceeded to hold it over my head. It's been a nightmare trying to keep from revealing everything to everyone but it did give me the excuse of spending time here."

She gestured to the palace above them.

"Then it was just a matter of laying low and picking up bits of information; I figured out he was with Vargas pretty quickly but I still have no real proof of it and last time I got close enough he had me suspended." She heard them start to mutter behind her as things started to fall into place. "Then when Ambassador Perales was killed I knew it had to do with him, especially after he sent me that woman's ear."

She shuddered at the memory of opening the trinket box and finding it inside. "Another time." She told them before they started asking more questions.

"Then there was the whole Princess Louise thing which finally gave a good lead on how to get evidence after the girl told us that Rochefort hired her and her lover to kill Princess Louise, then impersonate her to kill Archbishop Jacqueme and the Duc de Barville and try and kill Chancellor Dupree to stop a Sweden-France treaty against Spain."

"Us?" Aramis asked.

"That would be me." Helene grinned. "I told you; we made a deal – we're allies now."

"And on top of all of this there's his unhealthy obsession with the Queen." Anna continued, ignoring the look Athos gave her at the word 'allies'. "I've been keeping an eye on that too and Rochefort knows it but I never expected for him to attack her." She said, turning to a little. "I would have cut him down myself if I'd known." She promised. "But then I was arrested and Rochefort offered me a deal and I knew it was my only shot to get close enough to him to actually stop him."

She stopped them at the base of a set of steps that would take them up into the heart of the palace.

"I realised that I'd probably played my part too well so I had the note planted in our rooms." She told Athos.

"Trust me." He said, repeating what the sheet had revealed to them.

"And do you?" He simply looked away and se swallowed around the lump that had formed in her throat before nodding lightly. "I understand." She turned back to the steps. "I can get you to the Queen but you're not going to like who I am on the way." She told them. "So let's get on with it."

She led them up the staircase and out onto a small landing deep within the palace. Glancing around the corner she cursed at the sight of two red guards.

"We need a distraction." D'Artagnan noted as they crowded behind her.

"No, you need their superior." She told him, turning to Helene. "I'll handle it, you get them to the Queen's wing."

"With an army of guards?" She glanced behind D'Artagnan to a scowling Porthos.

"I understand your trepidation, but if I was going to betray you, I'd have filled the tunnels with men and killed you in the dark." She stepped back onto the first step of a staircase that would lead her up a level to allow her to drop back down to the guards. "This is where we part for now, gentlemen." She told them. "See you soon."

She didn't look back as she jogged up the steps, across a strip of landing before rounding the corner and slowly making her way down another staircase, her mask falling into place with every step.

"What are you two loitering here for?" She asked as she stepped off the bottom step. The two men whirled to face her, hands on their hilts. "I asked you a question." Their hands dropped as they realised who she was.

"The Comte-"

"The Comte de Rochefort is no longer involved in guard rotations; do you not think the First Minister of France has anything better to do than assign you to a corridor?" She asked, watching them flinch.

"Madame, we-"

"Get out of my sight or I'll have you flogged."

They fell into quick bows at her bored tone before bolting in the opposite direction. Glancing down the corridor they had been headed, she sighed at the disappearing forms of four Musketeers making their way to the Queen.

____________________________________________________________

It made sense. He couldn't think of anything else to say other than that; it made sense. Everything she'd hurriedly told them in the tunnels made sense. But he'd heard her; heard how she spoke to those men and it wasn't her.

He didn't know if it was the fact that he hadn't noticed how withdrawn she'd been and that she'd been secretly collecting information to bring down the First Minister, or if it was how easily she'd become someone so completely different, that disturbed him.

He hadn't had a chance to actually speak with her but she'd been upbeat in the tunnels, jokey even, and that was out of character too.

Anna was always thinking; she was weighing up pros and cons and always planning for what was around the corner. She wasn't the mysterious figure in a dark tunnel with a story to tell that was unbelievable to any who weren't living it.

Who was Anna? Was she the woman he came home to after long nights signing forms? Or was she this person whose job was lies and deceit? Was she either?

He was tired of pushing away thoughts of her; he just needed 10 minutes to sit down and actually think. He had no idea what the actual plan was other than to get the Queen away from the palace. It was a plan heavily favoured by Aramis and even Anna seemed eager for it go off without a hitch.

He wanted to think it was because she knew the Queen would be sae with them but there were so many conflicting stories floating around that he had no choice but to doubt her a little, even if it was slowly killing him to do so.

Maybe the plan was for Rochefort to use the Queen's absence as an admittance of guilt. How bad would it look for her to disappear mere hours after being accused of treason? Horrendously.

He opened his mouth to remind them so when he realised that they were at the doors to the Queen's suites with D'Artagnan flinging them open as he watched.

Too late.

"We must get you away from here to a place of safety." Aramis said as he strode into the room, the rest of them trailing behind. Athos could see how D'Artagnan and Porthos watched him now; they were doing what he had done for the first few palace visits after the Dauphin's birth – making sure he remained Aramis and not the Dauphin's father.

"I need to be with the King."

"Rochefort is a Spanish spy." Athos told her, repeating the only thing he knew was unquestionably true. "He will destroy you."

"No. My brother would not...he could not forsake me like this."

"I beg you: the palace is no longer safe." Aramis said, he and Anne a mere breath apart as they stared at each other. "Rochefort knows now." He didn't need to specify what the Comte knew for fear to bloom in the Queen's eye. The reaction was enough for Athos to once again push his doubts aside and simply continue with this plan, regardless of the outcome; he could not let Aramis watch the mother of his child be executed for treason. "The danger's too great."

"Are we talking or leaving?" Helene asked, striding into the room after dealing with the last in the path of unconscious guards they'd left on their way to the wing.

"She's helping us now?" He wanted to laugh at the outrage on Constance's face as she and Milady simply sneered at each other. That was the other thing niggling at him; when did Helene and Anna bury the hatchet? By the sounds of things, they've been working together for a while and-

"I can't abandon the Dauphin." The Queen said, interrupting his line of thought as he studied his former sister-in-law.

"I'll stay with him." Constance offered, breaking the stare-off she and Milady had been having.

"Constance, Rochefort knows you're the Queen's ally, should anything happen to you..."

"Her Majesty can't stay here and she can't see her son." Constance reminded D'Artagnan as the lad cupped her hands; his face drawn at the thought of leaving her with no protection. "But I can."

"We need to go." Porthos piped up as he watched the corridor, intently listening for approaching footsteps. "They might check on these guards at any moment."

"Anna will hold them off." Milady assured him but the mention of the woman's name had Constance glowering again.

"You'll go this way." Constance told them, heading for the other set of doors leading from the room. "It leads to the servant's landing; you won't be intercepted by the newest member of the Red Guard." She sneered at the regiment's name.

"Anna is-"

"What about them?" Porthos gestured to the slumped bodies outside the Queen's rooms, ignoring the glare from Helene as he cut her off from trying to redeem Anna's reputation with the Queen and Constance. But he understood; even if she were with them, it was better to let as many people as possible think she weren't.

"I'll deal with it." Helene bit out. "Just go." She waved them away as she turned to the bodies. "Go!" She insisted and as the others made their way towards the staircase at the end of the servants landing, Athos crossed the room to Helene.

"Will you be safe?"

"No-one's looking for me and if they start, I've got a friend who can point them in the wrong direction." She offered him a tight smile. "Just get the Queen to safety." He nodded once and turned to leave when she stopped him with a hand on his arm. "If you're going to do it, at least get something...prettier." He frowned at her strange words but heaved a sigh as he turned and found her with the silver band from his pocket between her fingers.

"When?"

"The inn." She shrugged and he recalled how close she'd stood to him. "When all this is over and you've decided if you want to be with her...get something more memorable than this piece of tin." She pushed the ring into his hand. "She deserves it." With that she turned and sealed the doors behind her; leaving the Queen's room empty of everyone but him, Constance and D'Artagnan as the couple embraced.

"You are sure about this?" D'Artagnan asked.

"Marguerite will help me: she's always been a friend to the Queen." Constance told him, pushing him lightly towards Athos where he waited at the open doors. "Go!"

They both turned and headed for the staircase as the doors closed behind them. D'Artagnan turned to him as they descended the steps.

"Can we trust-"

"I don't know."

____________________________________________________________

He wasn't entirely sure why he'd elected to stay in Paris while the others tucked the Queen away in a pocket of France's vast countryside.

He told himself it was to keep an eye on Rochefort and to see how things developed here but, as he watched Anna leave the palace late in the evening, he knew it was a lie.

Something had told him to loiter at the palace and keep an eye out for any flash of a red tunic. He'd been stood, concealed in shadows and playing with the ring, for an hour and now, with the sun firmly set and the streets of Paris cloaked in darkness, she'd emerged.

Everything else had been quiet; not a whisper of a problem or the discovery of only Constance in the Queen's rooms. He wanted to believe it was Anna's doing; that she was buying them time to get Anne as far away as possible. God, he wanted to believe it.

It's why he was following her now. He needed to see her when she was doing what she apparently did best. No one looked up as she moved swiftly through the streets until she came to the entrance of the slums.

She didn't even glance behind her as she took an immediate corner and began navigating the labyrinth of streets in the most dilapidated part of Paris, with ease. How often had she snuck out? He asked himself. How many times had he not noticed her slip away from their bed?

She was too at ease here and the people were not paying her attention. That in itself told him that she was a common sight here. Unlike him. He was getting more than a few questioning looks from the beggars and the children who continued to play despite the late hour. They waved as Anna passed but paused their games completely for him.

Who was she?

It was the question he couldn't stop asking as he followed her up a flight of wooden steps and into some sort of raised warehouse. The beams were splitting and the floor was broken in places but again, she navigated them with ease, only stopping when voices could be heard.

He watched as she slipped into the shadows and remained, barely breathing as he twisted to peer at the scene unfolding before them.

"I've been searching for you for so long, Helene. Or whatever name you give yourself now."

"Catherine." Milady breathed and Athos wanted to let out a groan as he spied the red-head pointing a pistol at her. "What are you doing here?"

"The only consolation I had for the agony and humiliation you caused me was the knowledge Athos hanged you years ago." Catherine's voice was barely a whisper as she stepped closer to Helene, the pistol now digging into the back of her neck. "Then I lost even that."

"So now I assume you're going to put things right?" Milady asked and it was then Athos noticed the single noose hanging in front of the pair. "You never were very imaginative, were you, Catherine?"

"This is justice for Thomas de la Fere: my husband in all but name." She spat. "The man you stole from me and then murdered."

"Thomas was not the man you think he was." Helene told her and Athos felt his hands curl into fists as she tried, once again, to sully his brother's name. "He tried to kill me when he found out who I was; what I'd done."

"Spare me your lies!" Catherine cried, digging the pistol further into her neck. "No one believes them."

"Every word I have spoken about Thomas is the truth." Milady continued, her voice shaking only slightly.

Athos tore his eyes away from them for a second to gauge Anna's reaction and felt himself stiffen at the relaxed hold of her shoulders and her unclenched hands. It seems there is one person who believes her, and it killed him to see her swayed.

"When Thomas found out that I'd lied and stolen to survive, he flew into a rage I didn't think him capable of." She said. "I still have the scar of where he tried to run me through." Catherine's hand tightened around the pistol. "He wouldn't listen to me; he just kept going for me and after I fell I was just trying to protect myself." Her voice was rising as she recounted, for what Athos realised was likely one of the first times, what had happened that day. "I was just trying to protect myself but he was calling me a whore and accusing me of only being with him for money when really...I loved him." She said firmly, protesting as Catherine used her free hand to slip the rope over her neck. "He lunged again and..." She trailed off as a hammer clicked into place.

"That's enough, Catherine." He hadn't seen her step from the shadows but suddenly Anna was behind Catherine, with her own pistol pointed. "I'm going to have to ask you to put that..." She nodded to the pistol. "...down before you do something stupid."

"Oh good, the other whore has joined us."

"One of these days, you and I are going to have a long talk about your continued use of that word." She drawled, stepping closer. "But not now; I have too much to do and you're holding a vital piece of the puzzle hostage."

"You should both hang for what you did."

"Oh what did we do?" Milady asked with a sigh, clearly having composed herself enough to deal with the fact that she was once again wearing a noose. "It's not like we cast a spell over the household that would force both brothers into our arms." He knew she'd be rolling her eyes. "They didn't want you." She told her. "They wanted us, and can you blame them?"

"You bewitched them and-"

"Stop being a petulant child, Catherine." Anna sighed. "I tried to be nice to you in Pinon but I'm tired now; I've had a long day and I've got another one tomorrow so just put it down and let her go." The red-head flinched at the change in tone.

"You deserve this." Catherine whispered her hand sliding to Milady's back.

Athos was leaping from his hiding place in a heartbeat, rapier out and slicing through the rope as Helene stumbled forward her feet scrabbling on the edge of the open platform. The brunette fell into Anna's waiting arms as she tossed aside her pistol to catch her.

A sob from Catherine filled the air as Anna coached through deep breaths; the latter seemingly on the verge of tears herself as Athos contemplated how close she had been to actually swinging this time.

Anna was lifting the rope from her neck as Catherine reached out for her fallen pistol. Athos kicked it away with a growl and watched her eyes widen as they heard it hit the floor below.

"You couldn't have jumped out a minute earlier?" Anna asked as she helped Helene to her feet, ignoring Catherine's continued wails as she unclipped a purse from her belt.

"You knew I was there?"

"Which part of 'spy' are you having difficulty with?" Milady asked, smirking as Anna dropped the purse into her outstretched hand while massaging her neck with the other. "I told you he'd see me swing." She said to the blonde.

"I wanted to hear what you had to say." He told them, trying to find some normality in the scene of the woman he loves standing almost hip-to-hip with the woman they despised.

"And?" Helene asked.

"You both saved her." Catherine spat from her spot on the floor. "She killed him and you saved her!"

"She's working for the service of France." Anna told her. "Otherwise..."

"Her only service is to herself." Catherine said. "She's a murdering whore." Anna sighed at her choice of insult.

"Nevertheless, her mission is of vital importance and I can't allow you to interfere with it."

"You're as bad as her." Catherine sneered, rising to her knees to glare at Anna. "You think I haven't heard the rumours? Haven't heard about you and a new Comte?" Athos felt a glimmer of hope spark in his chest as Anna flinched almost imperceptibly at the accusations. "Tell me the truth..." Catherine turned to him. "Is that why you chose her? Does her cruelty excite you? Do you desire her because of it? Were you drawn to her because she is nothing but a common whore and readily spread her legs for you?"

It was the first time he'd ever hit a woman. He hadn't even felt himself do it, but the look of shock on Anna and Helene coupled with the hurt in Catherine's eyes as she cupped her cheek told him that he most certainly had.

"I love her because she loved me when I needed her most."

"Believe your own lies if you want, but don't expect me to swallow them." Catherine said. "I could have loved you, Athos. Loved you better than anyone else and we could have been happy together. But you chose her and that encouraged sweet Thomas to search for his own bride in the slums too. I don't care who warms your bed anymore; you deserve each other...but you can't let her go." She fixed her gaze on Milady.

"My God, does she never stop talking?" Helene groaned. "She was a nightmare at the wedding and I only had to put up with her for a few hours; how you did it, I'll never know."

"Patience of a saint." Anna replied and Athos was once again rocked by the easy camaraderie between them. "Hence why I haven't shot you yet."

"Rude. Although, that's a good idea." Helene mused. "Let's just shoot her and be on our way; this has taken too long as it is." Athos opened his mouth to protest but stopped when Anna simply fixed her with a look that had Helene's eyes rolling as she breathed out: "Just a thought."

"This ends here, Catherine." Athos said, crouching to eye-level with the red-head. "Forgive me if you can but otherwise; go home."

He stood, and with a final glance at the woman he was once to marry, he left the room; heading for the steps he had ascended to get here.

"I'm growing tired of people trying to hang me." He heard Helene complain as she and Anna followed.

"Perhaps if you weren't so...irritating?"

"How is this my fault?" Helene asked. "I did nothing and nearly died!"

"You did insult her a fair few times."

"She deserved it."

____________________________________________________________

The child was crying again. No, not again; still. He hadn't stopped since Anna had handed him over to Marguerite this morning. Nothing would quiet it; not her cooing or her playing or even his snarl. The child was demanding attention and he was getting it.

Every time it's scrunched up, squirming and screaming face was turned to face him; Rochefort wanted to hurl it across the room. He was here because the King had asked him to keep him company and he sorely regretted not saying no.

But he had to be here; needed to keep an eye on Marguerite. The woman was, of course, expendable, but it had been an error on his part to let her see him switch out Lemay's medicine with a bottle of his own procurement.

She kept glancing to him now, and then the yellowed glass bottle on the King's bedside. If she didn't stop being so obvious about it; he'd strangle her.

"Why will he not be quiet?" Louis asked, his voice on the verge of whining. "Does he not love his father?"

Rochefort wanted to laugh at that; oh he loved his father all right. That's exactly why he was punishing them all.

"He will not settle without his mother." Marguerite told him, her arms jostling the child in another pointless attempt to sate him.

"Where is Anna?" The King asked. "He was fine in her arms."

"Mademoiselle Beauchamp is taking care of business in the city." Rochefort told him, hands flexing into and out of fists as the wails increased by another volume level. "She did not wish to leave you but I insisted that the city must continue to function despite the uncertainty with Her Majesty."

It had pained him to force her out; she was his only source of relaxation lately. But there was a job to be done and she must be seen doing it; otherwise the news of her...change of heart, would not circulate.

He could still picture the look on Athos' face when he saw her; all tight leather and corseted waist. He'd chosen the uniform himself; deciding to flatter every curve that that dammed regiment had overlooked.

She'd been kept in the shadows for far too long and nothing says 'welcome back' like a promotion and new clothes. He adjusted the cuff of his own plush leather jerkin.

"Here, let me take him." He sneered at the new voice and tilted his head to get a look at the woman loitering in the doorway of the Dauphin's new nursery.

The appearance of Constance Bonacieux, or whatever she now was, was unsettling. She should be at Anne's side; whispering pointless stories of hope and justice into her ear.

"Your Majesty..." His eyes snapped from the lingering Constance to a shaking Marguerite with the Dauphin in her outstretched hands. He followed her gaze across the room to the King and the copious amounts of his believed medicine that he was pouring into his wine.

"What is it?" Louis asked, his hand stilling. "Why is she staring? It's very unnerving." Rochefort slid his eyes back to Marguerite and simply raised an eyebrow at her. It did the trick; shaking her conscience away as she turned and handed the baby to Constance.

Louis simply turned from them all and continued to gulp down his wine. Rochefort strode from his spot in the corner to the open doorway where Marguerite remained; chewing her lip as she eyed the King.

"What is she doing here?" He asked, sneering at Constance and the quieting baby in her arms.

"She offered to help."

"You don't need help." The curl of his lip reminded her of his warning when she'd spied him changing the bottles: 'You have no future without me now. Everything I do, you are part of.' "Take the Dauphin away. The King needs rest." He instructed.

She left them with a small curtsey and Rochefort rolled his good eye at the deepening circles under the woman's eyes. It was pathetic really; all he'd done was ask her to keep quiet and the stupid girl couldn't even manage that without falling into despair.

He shut the double doors, sealing the Dauphin and his nurses from the exhausted King. The silence engulfed them immediately and images of Marguerite's dark eyes were replaced with laughing blue ones. After all that time in Spain, both in the palace and prison, he'd never believed that he could ever find a woman who wasn't Anne of Austria so...consuming.

"Perhaps his governess is right." Rochefort turned slightly to the King as Louis sighed. "The child should be with his mother."

"The Dauphin must stay with you, sire." He was tired of this conversation now; they'd had it at least fifteen times today. "He must remain untainted by questions over the Queen's conduct."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Louis huffed. "He is a baby. What can he possibly know of it? His mother meant no harm, I'm sure. Just send for her." He drained his goblet and set it down. "We shall display magnanimity and forgiveness."

Rochefort eyed the empty cup with a hidden smugness before refocusing on the King and offering him a tight smile.

"Your Majesty would benefit from a good night's sleep." He said. "Why not wait until the morning to tell the Queen of your decision?"

"Yes." Louis meandered to his four-poster bed and slumped across it. "You're quite right. Let us sleep on it."

____________________________________________________________

"Where are we going?" It was the first words he'd spoken since they'd left the slums and Anna turned at the question.

"The palace." She told him as they tucked into the shadows offered by a street corner.

"The palace?"

"I told you I could get you inside Rochefort's office." Helene reminded him as she craned her neck for anyone watching them; they weren't exactly being discreet – she was in a voluminous green dress, Athos was in his Musketeer uniform and Anna was in a crimson tunic.

"You want to go now?" He asked.

"No, I thought turning up in the middle of the day when he's in there working would be preferable." Anna said, failing to hide the bite in her voice as he continued to question her. Wasn't Treville's vote of confidence enough for him?

He fixed her with an unamused stare and the pair simply locked eyes until Helene cleared her throat.

"Sorry to interrupt but, if you're going to the palace, you need to go now before the new guard rotation starts."

"You're not coming with us?" Athos asked, and Anna felt herself lurch at the fact that he was now apparently more at ease in the company of the woman who killed his brother than her.

"Three is a bit excessive, don't you think?"

"I can get you in and out easier." Anna told him. "It won't look suspicious if I'm wandering around by myself and hiding one is easier than hiding two."

There was a pause at the Musketeer seemed to ponder the plan and Anna huffed at the slight. Eventually, he gave a stiff nod and with a quick goodbye to Helene, they were alone.

____________________________________________________________

"Do you believe her?" Athos asked as they made their way once again through the hidden tunnels underneath the palace. "Helene." He clarified. "Do you believe her story about Thomas?"

She was silent as she led him through the tunnels, her lantern their only source of light. He waited patiently for her answer, knowing that what she said next would determine everything.

"Yes." He felt his heart still. She had claimed to love Thomas like a sister and now she believed him to be a monster. "There was blood on the fireplace, remember? Blood that couldn't be explained. And she showed me the scar; it fits."

"You believe him capable of that?"

"I believe that she loved him and he loved her and it was all a huge misunderstanding." She paused, stopping their journey to meet his eyes. "Much like the one you've been experiencing recently."

"I-"

"I understand why you'd be hesitant to trust me." She offered him a tight smile. "I've kept so much from you and then you find me dressed to Rochefort's standards with his hands on me...I'd be wary too."

"Why didn't you tell me?" He wanted to laugh at the ludicrousness of having this conversation in whispers under the palace on their way to steal from The First Minister of France.

"It would have been treason to tell you." She shrugged. "But I knew that one day I would have had to so I had a plan to sit you down and explain it all but..." She sighed. "...I didn't and then Rochefort appeared and it would have been suicide to spill."

"I could have protected you."

She merely laughed.

"You could have tried but it wouldn't have worked." He arched a questioning eyebrow at her and she sighed, glancing around them as she too realised that they were going to have to do this here. "Rochefort and I are very similar." She began. "We were both placed in Madrid to collect information on the Spanish court. His cover was as the Queen's tutor when she was first betrothed to the King and mine was as the King's mistress. The difference is that he was caught." She ran a hand through her hair. "When the Cardinal sent him back after the Queen arrived here, he became careless and after he was captured, the Cardinal wanted a replacement; someone who wouldn't make the same mistakes."

"You."

"I'd become an asset outside of Paris; no one suspects the woman." She smiled again and he found himself returning the smile. "So they sent me. And I was great." She laughed. "Things turned sour when I actually had to start...being with the King." His smile faded. "I held it off for as long as I could; the British call it 'pulling an Anne Boleyn' but eventually I had to get into the bedroom."

He could feel himself recoiling from the conversation as she reached out to touch his wrist.

"What I'm about to tell you, not even the King knows...they'd kill me on the spot if they knew..." She took a breath, apparently spurred on by the fact he hadn't shunned her touch. "I drugged the King for months."

"You...you drugged the King of Spain...for months?" She nodded quickly, glancing around again.

"I gave him something that would give him vivid dreams about...us after I'd kiss him and then he'd wake up and assume..." She trailed off again. "It was only in the last few months that I actually...you know...because I realised I had to stop; it was starting to affect him and...if I'd killed him..."

"You slept with him?"

"And I hated it." He watched as a tear rolled down her cheek and she brushed it away with a glare. "When I came back I felt so dirty...so undeserving of you so I tried to be this person who you could remember; someone still a little bit frail who maybe tears up..." She gestured to her face. "...but I'm not her anymore, Athos. And I can't keep pretending to be." She took another breath. "I've been spying since Rochefort shot Governor Alvarez to keep my cover."

"He what?" Athos asked, desperately thinking back to their rescue of General De Foix. "Why would-"

"He figured it out." She told him. "Figured who I am...was...at the same time as the Governor. Just as Alvarez was going to kill me, Rochefort saved me...and he's blackmailed me ever since."

"That was months ago." He breathed.

"And since then I've been working to collect information that can bring him down. Everything I told you..." She took his hands. "...is the complete truth." She squeezed them. "I'm working with Helene; it's a very tumultuous partnership but it's working, I interrogated the woman who killed and impersonated Princess Charlotte and then let Helene kill her...and that's just the tip of the iceberg." She let his hands go.

"You still could have told me."

"I was keeping you safe." She said. "The thought of anything happening to you or the others or the Queen...it made me sick. So, I played along. It was only when the news that the Queen was being held for treason that it started to snap into place."

"You were always going to join him." He realised. "That was the plan; you were always going to make him think he'd turned you...to get close enough."

"And here I am." She gestured to the red tunic. "I wish I could tell you more, but we have to keep moving, Athos...we've wasted too much time and I have to get you in there before Rochefort turns up."

She hesitated for a second, her mouth opening to add something, but stopped and turned back to the darkness ahead as she said:

"I'm not sorry for what I did, Athos; I saved a lot of lives. But she's gone; the one who was happy to lay awake for you...I can't pretend to be her anymore...and so I'm only sorry if you can't accept that."

____________________________________________________________

She led him through the palace without much of a thought as to what she was doing. Her movements were automatic as she held him behind corners to check they were clear as they approached Rochefort's study.

The look in his eyes as she'd turned away from him down there...it was haunting.

She knew once it all came out that they would be different, perhaps irreparably so, but it still hurt like hell.

She was sick of pretending though. She couldn't do it anymore. Couldn't let people think she was fine with being left out of things because she was a woman. Tired of playing up the role of doting partner who plants a kiss on her man's cheek every time he steps away from her. It just wasn't her anymore.

She could live without him. She knew she could. She'd done it before and she'd do it again. Honestly, if they had no history together, they probably wouldn't even be together. She was independent and she knew Treville had been confused by her sudden transformation from spy extraordinaire to nothing more than a housewife.

She'd done too good a job of it though, people had forgotten who she was and what she was capable of and to an extent, it had worked in her favour as Rochefort saw her as little more than a doormat. But she could look back now and see that she hadn't just changed her outside appearance, she'd been lying internally too.

Every time she'd lamented over something or worried unnecessarily now made her sick. That wasn't her. She only panicked when it was a life or death situation; she was soldier, dammit!

Why she'd thought she'd have to change upon return here, she didn't know. But she regretted it now as she felt his eyes on her back as he worked through all she told him.

They weren't the same people as they were only a few days ago. That much was certain. But she was hoping that he could now see that they hadn't been the same for a long time, ever since they'd left Pinon the first time.

"Empty, as promised." She pushed open the ajar door of the Comte's office and let him in ahead of her.

He immediately moved to the desk and, after lighting the solitary candle there, began rifling through papers and trinkets' that Rochefort kept there.

"You're wasting your time." She told him, half-closing the door after a quick glance back up the corridor. "He keeps everything of value in here." She lifted an iron box from one of the many shelves lining the room and placed it on the table.

"It's locked." He noted after fiddling with the latch. "We need the-"

"Key?" She offered, sliding it from the pocket of her tunic. "Perks of being the favourite." She tried to joke as she slid it into the lock and lifted the lid.

They each pulled out a pile of letters and began scanning their contents.

"Anything?" She asked, though she already knew they'd find little; it wasn't her first time rifling through this place.

"Nothing." He sighed, dropping the pages back into the box as she closed its lid and slid the latch into place. "There must be something." He mused, turning away from her to scan the shelves.

She debated falling into Rochefort's chair and telling him it was pointless, though she doubted he'd appreciate how comfortable she'd appear in their enemy's office.

"I've-" She cut herself off as her ears strained to pick up the sound she thought she'd heard.

"What?" He asked, frowning as she held a finger to her lips and motioned for him to listen. "Footsteps." He said, his voice dropping to a whisper as their eyes widened in panic.

"He's not supposed to be here." She told him as they glanced around for somewhere to hide.

They could hear him clearly now; Rochefort speaking with his guard as they neared the room. Athos had his pistol in hand as she slid the box back into place on his shelves and was approaching the door silently.

"Wait." She hissed. "They'll kill you." She turned to the wall of bookshelves and sighed. "Here." She reached forward and let her hands slide under one of the lower shelves. "It's the Cardinal's secret cabinet; just pray Rochefort knows nothing about it." There was a small click before the panel gave way and the shelves swung open to reveal a small cupboard space. "Come on." She urged as she slid inside and felt panic claw at her insides as Athos instead slid backwards to blow out the candle before rushing into the tight space and letting the door swing closed behind him.

Barely a second passed before Rochefort came striding into the room and dismissed his guard.

Their breathing calmed as they stood chest to chest in the small space; their heads turned to peer through the sliver of a gap in the door at eye-level that allowed them to watch the Comte.

Placing his candelabra onto his desk, she felt her pulse quicken at the small plume of smoke floating from the freshly doused wick of the desk candle. It caught his attention too as he reached out to feel its temperature. Recoiling from its heat, he glanced around the dark room for any signs of an intruder.

He was stepping slowly through the room, staring into each corner and pausing at each nook to listen for any signs of life.

He approached the bookshelves in little time and Anna heard Athos mimic her as she slowed her breaths before stopping completely as he came almost eye-to-eye with them.

"Help!" The scream was distant but loud enough for them all to hear it. The shout continued as Rochefort stepped away from the shelves to face the door. "Help! The King!" He was off, running from them in a heartbeat and Anna exhaled with a slump; letting her head knock back against the panel behind her.

It was only when they'd both calmed that she realised exactly how close they were; she could feel his breath on her cheeks as their chests heaved together; brushing occasionally.

She wanted to say something, anything, that could make him understand and perhaps even forgive. Yes, she could live without him, but dammit; she didn't want to.

"Ath-"

And then he was kissing her; a hard, urgent kiss in this small space where they both fought for dominance. They'd never kissed like this before. They'd shared tender kisses like the ones back in Pinon and rushed kisses as they rode off to face god knows what, but this was definitely their first needy kiss.

She could feel it leaving them both, the tension that had been winding them tighter and tighter since she'd been arrested. With every move of his lips against hers she could finally understand why people give up their lives for just one more kiss.

Her hand was cupping the back of his head; a silent warning that if he so much as thought about breaking this then she'd use the pistol still in his right hand, and he was pushing her back into the door panel. She didn't know he'd managed to even turn them in this cupboard but she couldn't be bothered to question the logistics as his fingertips grazed the underside of her thigh; the tight leather making his touch even more teasing.

She gasped into his mouth and felt him smirk against her as he pulled her closer just by that one leg. He was still holding the pistol when one of her hands rested on his hips and pulled him as close as possible; their numerous weaponry belts stopping them from meeting where they most wanted but they didn't care.

They still hadn't parted and she could feel his fingers curl into her thigh as their need to take a breath increased but neither was willing to be the first to break it. Her other hand was braced against the wood behind him; arm straight as her fingers mirrored his and curled into the wood.

She could feel him everywhere, even where they weren't joined as they gave each other everything.

She didn't know if it was her or him who had flicked the door latch, but then they were stumbling out; her leg slipping from his hold as he instead pulled her close by her waist and still they were joined; her back now pressing against a bookshelf as he manoeuvred them out of the tiny space.

It was the realisation that they were no longer in their own tiny little world and instead in a very public room with the possibility of Rochefort returning that broke them apart. But even that was new for them; there was no sudden parting or chaste kiss afterwards to signal the end, they simply gradually slipped from each other; their mouths still so close as they gulped down air.

His eyes were scouring her face as though seeing it for the first time and her hands were curled into his biceps as she tried to set her head straight.

She wanted to make a quip, something like 'You've been holding back on me' but she couldn't, because it wouldn't be funny. Because it was true. Because he'd always seen her as a fragile piece of china playing at soldier instead of an actual person who can do their job without whimpering in fright.

They'd both been coy in the early days; both inexperienced and so aware that what they were doing was wrong. Paris had brought an edge to their alone time; neither wanting to simply 'be' and instead just getting on with things. And then she'd gone and when they'd seen each other those handful of times; it was rushed and quick because it had to be, because they hadn't had time. When she came back they were both different again; both wanted to pretend that nothing had changed, that they could still be tender with each other but it wasn't them anymore. They'd played at being young and bashful but they were too hardened now, it wasn't enough.

This though; with his breath still heavy even as the seconds ticked on and her heart pounding...this was who they were. They were angry and frightened and finally willing to show it.

He reached out to shut the secret door and its bang as the hidden latches slid into place seemed to wake them from their daze. He took a stumbling step backwards as she pulled at the hem of her tunic; hoping her hair wasn't messed up enough to provoke questions.

They exchanged no words as he took another step back and she slid from the shelves to the doorway; ears straining for any indication for the commotion that had broken out.

"I should go." She said finally; turning to look over her shoulder at him as he swiped something from the desk. "If there's something wrong with the King..."

"I can get back to the tunnels." He told her; answering the question in her eyes. She nodded, offered him a tight smile and slipped from the room; fingers running like a comb through her hair as she broke into a jog at the raised voices ahead.

____________________________________________________________

Rochefort was crouched on the floor of the Dauphin's nursery with the King's head in his lap as he tried to hold him still against the convulsions that were wracking his body.

They'd dispatched guards to swarm the palace and a maid was rushing in with a blanket for the shivering King.

Marguerite had raised the alarm with just enough time to spare and Rochefort was happy to let the curiosity of a still-warm candle in his office slide as the next part of his plan fell into place.

"Bring me tar, water and salt! Now!" He bellowed as maids broke into runs at his order. "Courage, Sire." He whispered to the King. "Courage; I am here now."

"They have murdered me, Rochefort." He croaked, the foam that had gurgled up from inside of him still around his lips.

"What happened?" Rochefort glanced up at the breathless question as Anna skidded to a halt in the room. "I just got back and-"

"Find Dr Lemay and arrest him." He instructed.

"Dr Lemay?" She asked, stepping to the King and getting to her knees at his side. "What? Why?"

He handed her the discarded medicine bottle that had been brought to him only moments earlier. She held it gingerly and sniffed at the inside before recoiling. "Poison." She muttered. "But Dr Lemay would nev-"

"Arrest him." He repeated. "His guilt will be determined once detained." He saw a flicker of conflict in her eyes before they steeled over and she rose to her feet.

"I want Paris swarming with men." She said to the two Red Guards standing just inside the doorway. "Find the Doctor and get him in a cell." They nodded once and left the room. "You!" She called to a passing maid. "Bring more water; we'll need to flush his system until a new physician arrives."

"We will discover who is responsible for this, Sire." Rochefort promised, his eyes fixed on the blonde vision in front of him; shouting orders and gladly arresting someone who may have been a friend.

____________________________________________________________

She'd sat there all night, just her in the enormous rooms of the Queen; alone on a single bench in the antechamber. She'd barely slept; too consumed with worry over if Her Majesty had reached the convent where all of this had first started.

When Anne had sat her down and recounted her story; the story of the Dauphin and the one moment of freedom the caged women had ever experienced, she'd wept. And then she'd seen the fear in Aramis' eyes yesterday and she'd wept again when they'd left.

She was so afraid. She'd tried to put on a brave face for D'Artagnan but she knew that if Athos hadn't hauled him away then he'd have seen the cracks in her mask...there was a very good chance someone would die because of this. And sat, alone, in the Queen's chambers...there was a good chance it would be her.

She'd heard the commotion that had broken out the night before, but with two guards posted at the Queen's doors she'd gotten no information at all. It was only a matter of time now before someone paid the Queen a visit and found her gone.

And that's where her anger was blooming from; she still couldn't believe they'd been betrayed by the one person that had information on every single one of them. She wanted to kick herself for not suspecting Anna but the woman was her best friend and so kind and in love so...why?

She felt her spine straighten and her chin lift as heeled footsteps approached the double doors to the rooms, but she refused to stand; not for traitors.

Sure enough, the doors were flung open within moments and the Comte de Rochefort strode in. if she closed her eyes she could still see him posed over the Queen – the woman a sobbing mess as he tried to...she swallowed down the bile at the thought of what would have happened if she'd been a minute later.

Four guards followed him into the space, led by their new deputy. Constance eyed her from the corner of her eye and felt the bile rise again. She too was straight-backed and poised, one hand on her rapier as she glanced around the emptiness.

"Where is the Queen?" Rochefort asked, stood dead centre in the antechamber after glancing into the open and empty bedroom.

She had no answer for him. She hoped the woman was at the convent but truly, she could be anywhere if the Musketeers had deemed it not safe enough.

He let out a low growl at her lack of a response and took deathly slow steps towards her.

"Where is she?" He asked again. Constance merely lifted her head and looked him straight in the eyes.

"Gone."

His hand clenched immediately at the news and a pair of heeled boots crossed the room quickly at the motion.

"Don't lash out." A woman's voice that had once made Constance laugh and grin whispered.

She watched as Anna stood facing Rochefort, her eyes focusing over his shoulder as she murmured to him. Constance sneered as tension seemed to leave the Comte's body at whatever suggestion she'd whispered.

"Take her." Rochefort ordered and the two guards were at her sides instantly.

She couldn't tear her eyes from the two blondes though and the slow snaking of his hand as it pulled her closer to him. She wanted to scream. To curse them both for being traitorous scum. But it all died on her lips when he pressed a simple kiss to her forehead.

She had no fight in her when they hauled her away.

____________________________________________________________

She'd arrested not just the good doctor, but also her best friend. When she'd whispered the suggestion into the shell of his ear, he'd actually felt a tingle down his spine; never had he met someone who could match him not just in wits but also ambition. He'd make her his equal in every way once all this was over.

She hadn't even batted an eyelid when the guards had manhandled the widow slightly on their way to the King's private chambers and she still showed no emotion as Constance and Lemay stood quivering at the foot of Louis' bed.

"We have found those responsible, Your Majesty, at the heart of the Queen's household."

"Th...Th...This is absurd!" Lemay cried; his face pale after being dragged from his bed late last night.

"These two were the means of executing the plot." Rochefort continued.

"He's lying, sire." Constance argued and Rochefort forced a smile down at the roll of Anna's eyes as the woman stood behind them with her guards at her back. "The Queen would never hurt you!"

"The medicine I prescribed was a mild opiate to soothe a headache!"

"With the bitter scent of poison?" Anna drawled as Lemay was handed the bottle and also recoiled at the smell.

"Someone must have interfered with the bottle." He said, twisting slightly to plead directly to her. "I would never-"

"The very fact the Queen has fled the palace is an admission of her guilt." Rochefort interrupted, as a guard stepped forward to force Lemay's attention back to him and the King. "Tell the King what you told me."

All attention turned to Marguerite as the shaking and even paler woman took a step forward.

"Constance and Lemay are intimate." She whispered. "The doctor would do anything she asked. The Queen met with them in secret."

"Marguerite?" Constance breathed in disbelief. "Marguerite, what are you saying?"

"I cannot look at them." The King's voice was barely audible as he lay, face clammy and breathing laboured, in bed. "Do what you must, only let me rest."

Rochefort nodded once to Anna who in turn gave a simple snap of her fingers. The guards were dragging the pair from the room as the King let his eyes flutter closed again, all ignoring the cries of loyalty from Lemay.

Even Marguerite left; the woman no doubt returning to the Dauphin to cry in peace; she was really starting to grate on him now.

And then there were three; a sleeping King, a smirking Anna and him – proud Rochefort with the world at his feet and a pretty woman inching closer and closer to his bed.

____________________________________________________________

The sudden breakout of chaos at the palace had been the perfect cover for him to quickly slip out without being noticed by anyone. He'd made his way back through the tunnels with one hand holding their discarded lantern and the other firmly gripping a pistol as he tried to work out what had spurred him to kiss so intently in the Cardinal's cupboard.

It was the same thing that had circled his mind on the ride out of Paris and towards the convent. It was strange sense of déjà vu as he approached it; the tree line entrance still promising sanctuary but he couldn't help but notice that while the leaves had been green and full of life at their first visit; they were now brown and dying as the path became littered with them. He knew it was a metaphor, one Anna would no doubt have appreciated, but the fact that they were all but confirming the impending sense of doom growing inside of him...

"Did you find the letters?" He shook his head at Porthos' question as he, Treville and D'Artagnan approached him.

"No." He swung down from his horse. "But I think I found something better." He tried to focus on the items he'd stashed inside his jerkin but his mind kept flitting back to Anna and the simple fact that it had never been like that before.

His veins were thrumming with life every time his mind wandered back to that tight space and the way their mouths had basically warred against each other. He'd always known that she was it for him; there was and would be no one who take her place. She was his first love and his only love and he just wished he'd actually told her that.

"You don't seem too confident about it."

"It's not that." He shook away Treville's concerns and swallowed a laugh at the irony; he wasn't too confident in what he'd just found with the woman he loved – this could all go sour very quickly and he'd be dammed if his last kiss with that woman was in a cupboard. "Something happened at the palace." He told them focusing on the various shouts of 'poison' that had passed him as he left the palace.

"It's Constance, isn't it?"

"Constance is fine, as far as I know." He assured D'Artagnan as the four made their way into the convent. "It's the King."

That stopped any further questions as they shared a look before Treville muttered something about retrieving the Queen.

"Tell me you've not left her with Aramis." He sighed as their Captain disappeared.

"Try and keep them apart." Porthos muttered as he led them through the convent and towards a small room that they'd commandeered as Musketeers HQ.

"You must escort me back to Paris immediately." The Queen said as soon as they stepped into the room. She sat at the head of a long table with Treville at her side.

"Returning now would be unwise." He counselled.

"I will decide what is unwise!" She said firmly. "The King has been poisoned...I don't know if he is alive or dead." She swallowed as they each took a seat on the benches lining the table. "I must be ready to protect my son. No-one would dare challenge my right to rule in his name."

"Rochefort is capable of anything." Porthos reminded her as Athos ran a hand through his rain soaked hair.

"Even poisoning the King?"

"Well, maybe that was always the Spanish plan." Porthos pondered. "Get Rochefort close enough to the King to...to kill him." The Queen took a sharp intake of breath at Athos' side at his words. "And it's not like he doesn't have supporters in the palace."

"It makes no sense: if the King dies, the Queen becomes regent." D'Artagnan said. "Rochefort loses all his influence."

"Not if the Queen is blamed for her husband's death."

"He wouldn't dare!" Anne breathed.

"He has accused you of treason. Why not murder as well?" Athos asked as her eyes widened and her playing with her hands increased.

"With both the King and Queen gone, he'd be in a good position to make terms with Spain especially if he has a new ally who can provide sensitive information on them."

"I still don't understand why she did it." Anne whispered. "All these years I thought she was my friend I...she held my son before I did!" She exclaimed. "How did I not know she was working against me?"

"You must wait for more news before you act." Treville said, carefully skirting around the topic of Anna. Athos admired the man's steadfast belief in her even when all around him didn't. Athos chose to keep quiet on it; he trusted her, every inch of him trusted her...but... "Stay here, gather support, raise an army if you have to."

"Raising an army would be an act of rebellion. It could mean civil war." D'Artagnan paused, glancing at their drawn faces. "The Queen's right: she must go back."

"Is it the Queen or Constance you're really worried about?"

"At least she had the guts to stay when none of us would!" He cried. "She stayed in a traitor filled palace where she could be executed for anything Rochefort and Anna see fit!"

"Control yourself." Treville's order was calm but clear as D'Artagnan turned from him to focus on his cup.

"I will decide my own fate." The Queen said, breaking her silence. "And I must return, whatever the risk."

"With respect, that's madness. You can't be sure of your safety."

"I know that." She smiled at Aramis and his ever-present concern. "But if the King lives, he will need me by him. And if he dies...my duty is clear. I owe it to my son. And to France."

They fell silent at her words; each man mulling them over until they came to a clear acceptance that she was going to return. Now they needed to figure out how to keep her safe when she got there.

"Vargas is the only man alive who can identify Rochefort for who he really is."

"What use is that? He won't just hand himself in."

"But he might come if he thought his entire scheme was about to be exposed." Athos reached inside his jerkin and produced a letter and stamp. "The seal of the Comte de Rochefort." He told them, holding the stamp up to show them the mage on its base. "We write in his hand, asking Vargas for help."

"Vargas must know his hand." Aramis said as Treville inspected the seal. "Seal or no seal, he'll see the letter's a forgery."

"We can copy his style."

"I'm no forger." D'Artagnan told their Captain.

"No, nor me." Porthos agreed.

"I am." They all turned at the unexpected voice. "I have been copying the ancient texts of the Holy Fathers for many years." The young nun at the doorway stepped forward. "I have developed some skill at duplicating the original hand...though it is a sin to boast."

Porthos chuckled at the blush that rose up to her cheeks as Treville turned back to the letter and sighed; his back shifting as he straightened and immediately became Captain Treville.

"Vargas has never trusted anyone in his life. He'll be expecting an ambush."

"Not if there's only one man waiting for him."

____________________________________________________________

She knew there hadn't been a mistake. Knew it from the second Rochefort had willingly handed the bottle over to her to confirm the poison. Only someone working very hard to maintain an image of innocence was as forthcoming as he'd been.

And that's why she was sat, staring at the bottle, right now.

The symptoms weren't unusual; convulsions, foaming at the mouth and then an immediate exhaustion, and that's what was making it hard to narrow down.

It had to resemble Lemay's medicine, she reminded herself, and that narrowed down her options considerably; a water-like, clear solution. It also had to have that pungent aroma.

Bottle wrapped securely in the palm of her hand, she was up and out of her chair in an instant and heading to the kitchens for a little bit of experimentation.

After all, someone who'd successfully drugged the King of Spain for months was definitely the one who should be properly investigating this.

____________________________________________________________

As she let the ink glide effortlessly into the final swirl of Rochefort's signature pompous 'R', the nun dipped her quill back into her inkpot and looked hopefully up at Athos as he studied her work. He held the original and the forgery side-by-side as Treville entered the small room and the pair compared them.

"Sister, I could kiss you." Treville drawled, letting his lips curve into a lazy smile at the faint tinge of pink reappeared on her cheeks at the compliment.

"Best not, perhaps." She smiled, lifting the small spoon of hard wax over a flame and letting it melt.

Athos gave the note a final glance before folding it and placing it down for her to pour the melted wax into a neat blob. He lifted the stamp and with the practice only a former Comte could have, imprinted the image into it.

He lifted the letter and with a final nod of thanks to the woman, made his way out into the courtyard. He handed it to Porthos with a final order of; "Don't be reckless." To which the man simply grinned before pulling him into an embrace.

"Your Majesty, I will beg you one more time." Treville began as he intercepted Anne. "At least stay until we have Vargas."

"It is impossible." She told him, heading straight for Porthos as he broke his embrace with Aramis and mounted his waiting horse. "I know the danger, Captain, but I must go." She stopped at Porthos' side. "Godspeed, Porthos." She lifted her hand for him to press a kiss to it and gave him an affectionate smile as he complied.

"Your Majesty." He nodded to her once before pressing his heels into the horse and spurring it into a light trot. They watched as he took a breath and the disappeared from view; their only hopes of displacing Rochefort in his pocket.

____________________________________________________________

Constance Bonacieux never, in a million years, thought she would ever end up in a prison cell. Let alone be there on charges of treason and attempted murder. And even if she had imagined being here, she definitely hadn't predicted who would be the one locking her away down here.

She hadn't even visited. They'd been down here for hours and she was nowhere in sight. Anna Beauchamp had been more than happy to whisper the idea to Rochefort in between their sweet-nothings and then snap her fingers in condemnation in front of the King, but to actually come down here and face her; face them...she was very happily absent. Coward.

They'd been through so much together that it made more than her heart ache at the fact that she'd put her down here on false charges. She'd given her a home when she most needed one: twice! They'd laughed and gossiped and stared down whoever the Musketeers were pursuing that week and then she'd turned on her and arrested her and lied about her.

There was one person in this world who knew Constance inside and out and it wasn't the man she'd blindly married when he'd offered her a way out of the life she'd been dealt, and it wasn't the man she loved more than life itself – the one who had turned her world completely upside down and she loved him for it.

It was Anna.

The laughing blonde with a sharp tongue that was quick to get a deal at the market but curiously slow to appear around her love. Constance had never pushed her on it though; had always respected that sometimes things were too personal to talk about. But maybe she should have pushed, maybe she should have learnt more about her to not get into this exact situation.

Anna knew all about her; her rocky upbringing and the lifeline of Bonacieux. Knew about how ostracised she'd felt after their marriage, knew that she'd struggled to fit into the mould expected of her. Knew how Bonacieux had used to fly into rages when his wife continued to not fall pregnant, and knew exactly how to stem her tears after walking in on one and silencing the man with a promise of matching every hand he laid upon his wife with a much harder one of her own.

But she knew little in return. D'Artagnan had mentioned something about a Comte after their return from Pinon but she'd had no chance to question him further. She knew that she met Athos after her mother was hired as his brother's governess and she knew that they'd fallen in love and fallen in bed and he'd done nothing to put a ring on her finger in the years since. But she didn't seem bothered about that either; always cagey when asked about their future as though she deemed herself unworthy of one.

She had so many questions, not just about who the woman actually was but why she'd chosen to throw each and every person she loved to the dogs?

"What have I done to deserve this, Constance?" She looked away from the pit of despair that seemed to be forming at her feet and across to Lemay where he sat curled into a ball in the opposite cell. "I swear I have never in my life made a mistake prescribing remedies." He insisted as her eyes fought to look past the cuts and bruises left after his Red Guard interrogation.

"Someone tampered with the medicine." She said, her own body feeling like lead as she leant against her bars. She was glad, at least, that she hadn't been summoned for questioning and could therefore still stand.

"But Lady Marguerite and Anna..." He began, his voice desperate. "...why would they say such things of us? Why has Anna turned on us?"

She had no reason. She'd wracked her brains for one as she tried to block out Lemay's screams. She didn't even have the energy to shrug as the door leading down into the palace creaked open. Her eyes slid from Lemay to the appearing visitors and felt herself deflate further as boots she had come to know as Rochefort appeared.

He descended the steps with a sneer; his ornate inky black cloak shimmering with shades of purple in the candle light. Constance stood straighter as he reached the bottom, determined to put on a good face despite the rolling of her stomach as he turned and held out a hand to the woman close behind him.

She was wearing a similar cloak; the inky material skimming the backs of her knees as she moved. They both turned to face her cell; the dim fire light illuminating the subtle threads of molten red that ran through Anna's cloak. She was the devil incarnate; her red tunic and glowing cape coupled with her dead eyes was enough to make anyone shake in their boots.

She took a single step back as Rochefort leant close to her bars and focused on her.

"My proposition is simple: testify against Aramis and the Queen and you live." She forced her shoulders to still at his words; not a tremor of fear would be shown to him. "I had a feeling you might prove stubborn."

Anna moved from his side as his eyes remained on her. Constance tore her gaze from Rochefort and to the cell opposite where Lemay was letting out a soft whimper at the sight of the new Anna. A key was handed to the blonde without her having to ask for it and she unlocked the doctors cell before stepping back for two guards to haul him up and out of it.

"You have been found guilty of the attempted assassination of the King, the penalty for which is death." Rochefort spoke again; his voice louder as he smirked at Constance before turning to the doctor. "May God have mercy on your soul."

"Impossible." Lemay protested as Constance felt her head start to spin. "I have done nothing wrong. This is not justice!"

"You can't do this!" She cried, hands gripping the bars in front of her as Rochefort strolled back up the steps with Lemay being dragged behind him. "He's innocent!"

"Bring her too." Rochefort called over his shoulder and it was then Constance noted the paleness of Anna's face and the sheer width of her eyes. The woman was gripping the cell keys as Lemay was forced behind Rochefort.

"I've had no trial, no chance to defend myself!" He continued, his shouts going fainter as he moved further up.

A guard stepped forward to release Constance as she sprung back, further into the cell in a pointless attempt to get away from him.

"Leave us." Anna said, her voice catching slightly. "I said; leave us!" The man flinched but stepped back. "I'll bring her myself." She stepped forward as he moved back and she slid the rusty key into the large lock. The door swung open as it clicked and Anna stepped inside the dank cell.

She was forcing Constance's arms around her back before she the brunette had even had a chance to realise what was happening and then Constance was also being marched out of the dungeons and up, into the sunlight.

"No!" Lemay's cries were clear again as she stepped out into the small courtyard that held only a raised wooden platform. Her eyes fixed on the dried blood coating the wooden slats as the sounds of Lemay being forced to his knees filled the air.

Anna's hands were trembling slightly as she held Constance and the woman hoped that she was finally feeling some remorse for this; hoped she still had enough of a conscience to know this was wrong; that she was going to hell for her part in this.

Small hands were replaced with large as he was handed over to Rochefort who deemed her wrist binding enough and instead chose to restrain her face. Hands on both temples, he forced her gaze towards Lemay.

"Before his blood dries, you will be next." He told her, increasing his hold as she fought against him.

"This is murder!" She cried as the executioner lifted his sword.

"I have done nothing wrong." Lemay promised; his eyes on her as he spoke. "I hope you-" His words died as his arms were pulled backwards and his neck strained.

The sword swung without hesitation.

Her sobs turned into chokes as blood splattered the platform and Lemay's wide, terrified eyes fell from her view. Rochefort's hold only gave when her knees buckled and he stepped away as she sank to the ground; her mind replaying the severing of her friend's head from his body with every heartbeat.

"Your turn." She could barely move as Rochefort lowered himself into her eye line. "But I'll give you one last chance to save yourself; you have until dawn tomorrow to consider your position."

His words meant nothing to her. Lemay was dead. that was all she could think about. He was dead; murdered, and her friend, her best friend had helped.

Rochefort murmured something as he rocked backwards onto his heels and stood. She thought she'd heard him mutter a compliment; a simple 'you did well' to the woman who was now his right hand...or left eye, even.

It made her sicker; the thought that Anna had done well at an execution. She wanted to vomit and scream and then there was an urge that Constance Bonacieux had never before experienced; she wanted to kill them all.

____________________________________________________________

Getting back to Paris had been easy; it was getting through Paris that had been the hardest part of getting the Queen back into the palace without Rochefort or anyone in a Red Guard uniform knowing.

They'd managed to get this far; to the gates of the palace without any trouble but now, with them all crouching in the shadows waiting for a bribed maid to return with a note, Athos wished they'd had more time to plan this.

He also wished that they'd had more than one scrap of paper between them when they'd arrived. He was nervous enough about this escapade without having to place all of his trust in a note to the Dauphin's governess. He wanted to get something to Anna too; perhaps she could've cleared the way a little for them but Aramis had whispered a reminder of his connection to the governess and Athos was in no position to suddenly vouch for their believed traitor of a friend.

"Marguerite's replied to our note." D'Artagnan told them, creeping back from the palace gates with another piece of paper.

"What news of the King?" Anne asked as Treville scanned its contents.

"She doesn't say, exactly." He told her, re-reading the ink. "But he must be recovering: she's arranged a private audience and will lead you to him."

"We should wait for confirmation that the King is safe." Athos said, his trust in the woman's ability to arrange a private audience without Rochefort finding out, a little lacking.

"My husband is alive. Marguerite would not lie about that." Anne said. "We must do as she says. This might be our only chance."

The four men nodded once before following her to a side door in the gate house. It was a good plan, a great plan even; to let the governess sneak the Queen back in. No one would think twice about her returning to the Queen's room under the guise of collecting some of the Dauphin's things but...something was nagging at him. This had happened far too quickly for his liking.

But then they were in the palace and he had no chance to stop them and scope the area as Marguerite appeared on the landing of the marble staircase.

"Marguerite." The Queen smiled upon seeing the woman. "Tell me, how is the Dauphin?"

"Majesty, come this way." He frowned at her avoidance of the question as she curtseyed and led them onwards up the steps.

She looked ill too. He'd spotted the black circles under eyes from the bottom of the steps and up close? Well, he'd seen healthier corpses.

But the Queen trusted her and was following behind her without question as they tagged along behind.

"Are you sure this is safe?" Aramis asked from Marguerite's side and her responding swallow had Athos reaching for his pistol immediately.

"Please, we only have a few moments." She gave them all a strained smile as they reached another landing and she ushered them down it. "This way." Athos noted that D'Artagnan and Treville were clearly having the same concerns as he as they were immediately behind the Queen. "Run!" His steps halted immediately at the governess' whisper. "For God's sake, save yourself!" His head turned slowly to the woman as she tried to stop Aramis from following them all. "Run!"

"Put down your weapons!" He exchanged a look with Aramis as the shout reached them.

The governess was pushed away in an instant as the two men broke out into a run down the corridor and around the corner into the meeting room where Treville and D'Artagnan stood at gunpoint, their rapiers in hand as the Queen was surrounded by Red Guards.

His eyes found hers immediately as she nodded once, very subtly to do as Rochefort said. He held Anna's eyes as he seated the sword and heard the others copy. He blinked once; a slow warning that no matter what game she was playing, if this ended in bloodshed he could do nothing to protect anyone. The quick breaking of eye contact on her part told him all he needed; she knew and she was still willing to play along.

"Where is the King?" Anne demanded as she pushed through the guards to face Rochefort and Anna. "Take me to him."

"First, you must answer to the charge of his attempted assassination."

"It's absurd!" Aramis was held back as a dozen pistols cocked in his direction. "The Queen wasn't even in the palace." He reminded them.

"Her household has proved a den of assassins." Rochefort said. "Her key accomplice, Dr Lemay, lost his head and the Bonacieux woman will be executed for her part in the conspiracy tomorrow."

"It's a lie." The pistols shifted to D'Artagnan as the Queen covered her mouth with a shaking hand. "Constance is innocent."

"Confine the Queen to her quarters." Rochefort instructed as Anna nodded to a group of guards at the Queen's back. "Securely this time."

"You will not succeed in this, Rochefort!" She cried. "The King will see what you are!"

"A murderous plot against him, planned by his unfaithful, deceitful wife." He smirked. "He has no choice but to condemn you."

"You have no evidence. It will be my word against yours."

"Oh..." He took a step closer to her. "...It will be a little more than that. You did know your son's governess was sleeping with your musketeer too?"

Athos wanted to groan as her head snapped to Aramis; her eyes full of hurt and deceit as he refused to meet her gaze. That itself was essentially a confession and he guessed what was coming next.

"And she's not the only one willing to testify to your character and conduct." He reached behind him and they watched as a soft hand slipped into his. "There are others who have been privy to your secrets for much longer."

"How could you?" The Queen whispered as Anna stepped beside Rochefort; her hand still in his palm. "How could you lie?" She asked again. "Let me see my son."

"Hardly appropriate." Anne took a step back at the coldness in her eyes and the traces of a sneer on her lips.

"The King will very soon know the depths of your disgrace." Rochefort continued as he dropped Anna's hand, allowing her to step around him and face the assembled Musketeers as he delivered his final blow. "Arrest the musketeer Aramis on a charge of high treason."

"What?!"

They struggled against the wall of Red Guards to no avail as Aramis was pulled forward and the Queen escorted from the room; her own struggles to turn back to them in vain.

"These are the King's orders. Will you defy them?" Rochefort shouted over the din as Aramis was left to stumble into the small clearing at Anna's feet. He righted himself and Athos could only watch as he stared in disbelief at the woman he had once called a sister.

Rochefort joined them and Athos strained to hear what was murmured to Aramis, but could only watch as his brother's shoulders dropped and he followed Anna, without a fight, through the opposite doors and out of view.

"Get to Constance while you still can." That's all he could say. There was nothing else he could add to the situation as Treville forced them from the room; any further protestations would be pointless.

The boy was off, running through the palace, in an instant. Athos watched him go as every step away from that room, from their friend, felt like a dagger in his heart.

She'd known. She'd known he was going to be arrested and she'd done nothing; not to stop it or even prepare them. They could have kept him away or...done something.

The ring in his coin purse felt like a lead weight as the leather swung from his belt. He couldn't stop the feeling of having been played. Had she lied to him? Was she truly Rochefort's now?

The steady hand of Treville on his shoulder was doing little to quell the rage in his veins and he knew that even if she was true, even if all of this was just leading to a bigger picture; this was only the beginning of what was to come.

____________________________________________________________

"D'Artagnan!"

"Stop him." Anna called out lazily as she reached the top of the dungeon steps.

Two Red Guards ran forward as the Musketeer raced across the executioner's courtyard and towards the tiny barred window that looked down into Constance's cell.

She leant against the brickwork and watched as he met them in a flurry of fists that left both guards on the floor as he slid to his knees at the bars and gripped Constance's outstretched hands.

"I'll get you out of here, I swear it." He told her as Anna pushed off the stone and strode to them. "I won't let them hurt you."

"I'm not afraid." She said as Anna clicked behind her and a fresh wave of men ran forward to pry his from the bars. "I love you."

"Never give up hope." He cried as they pulled him away and pushed him to the floor. They pounded him into the dust with well-placed punches and knees on his gut until she came to a stop at his side.

"That's enough." They stood. "Get him out of here." She turned from him as they grabbed his arms and dragged him back to the entrance; Aramis' shouts echoing up to them from his cell below.

"Never give up hope." She mused, dropping into a crouch in front of Constance's bars, effectively blocking her view of D'Artagnan as he was tossed out. "A lovely parting sentiment."

"You're going to pay for this." She told her, the lines of her face set in steel as she glared through the bars.

"Undoubtedly." She forced a smile. "But that's a problem for another day." She reached inside her sleeve and pulled out a square of cloth. "Dry your eyes, Constance." She held it out to her. "The fun's only just beginning."

She forced the cloth into her hand, curled her palm round it and pushed her arms back through the bars.

"You're a traitor and liar and when you're eventually found out, know that no one will weep for you."

The smile faded from Anna's face as Constance glared at her but kept the cloth; her fist tightening around it as she fumed.

"You're right." She whispered. "And someday, all that I am and all I have done will be discovered." She forced a smile back onto her features. "But today is not that day...perhaps tomorrow will be."

____________________________________________________________

She'd started crying as soon as Anna's heels disappeared from view. Slumping from the window and the small stone jutting from the wall that she'd been able to balance on to get a better view through the raised window, she curled into a ball.

Aramis was down here too. She'd heard him spitting curses at Anna as the woman had brought him down here and judging by the jangling of chains coming from next door, he was far more restricted than she.

She opened her hand as tears ran down her cheeks and glared at the square of white cloth that had been forced into her grasp. She watched with a frown as it unfurled in her flat palm to reveal an inked outline of something.

She flattened it out and felt the vice that had been slowly tightening around her heart ease open slightly.

She clutched the cloth to her chest and wept harder as she mouthed the words Anna had scrawled under her drawing of a fleur-de-lis.

Un pour tous, et tous pour un.