Jacqueline starred outside her window, one hand on her cross, and a determined look on her face. She was tired, tired of watching her comrades work, tired of her 'self imposed' exile from the world and tired of wishing it were all a 'bad dream' she would eventually wake up from. Nothing would change the facts, not anymore. D'Artagnan, Ramon, and Siroc were all she had left now and she could not afford to let her grief for her brother's death distance her from them any longer. A small smile played on her lips as she though of D'Artagnan and the fact he came by every day to 'cheer her up' as he put it. She glanced around at the door it was almost time for him to come, her smiled faded to a concerned frown. Siroc and Ramon knew now of course, but not the whole story, just who she was and her 'fake' identity. She sighed and flopped on her bed. It was time to tell them the entire story, after all, it was their right; they had not sounded the alarm on her. She was not scared, D'Artagnan would help her, and he always would. She opened her trunk and pulled out her rapier.
Yes, it is time to live again, time to finish my quest against Mazarin and discover my past.
A Whistle echoed down the hall alerting her to D'Artagnan's impending arrival.
Perhaps it is time to think about what the future could hold...