Anne took another deep, calming breath as she walked toward her apartments surrounded by not only her loyal band of Musketeers, Athos, Porthos and Aramis, but also half a dozen servants and four of her ladies-in-waiting.

She had just left the King who was almost apoplectic about her being so close to danger. He had railed against the prisoners, their guards, the Governor of the prison and had then set about screaming at Captain Treville and the Musketeers for the allowing this to happen, as if they had personally planned the escape and put her in danger.

It had taken a good ten minutes for him to calm down enough for him to hear Anne speak. She had tried to be so calm and matter of fact about what had happened there. She had held her shaking hands in her lap as she recounted the events of the day and had sought reassuring glances from Captain Treville and the Musketeers, especially Aramis, the one who had most certainly saved her life.

The whole experience at the prison had left her badly shaken. Never before had she had a gun held to her head, nor been surrounded by gunfire. It was a small miracle she hadn't been injured at all and that was probably due to Aramis. She knew that there were always plots afoot and those that wished the King and herself ill but it had never been so close and personal. And they always seemed more political than physical.

Finally the doors of her apartments appeared but before she was allowed to enter Athos and Porthos searched her rooms to make sure that no threat, especially with Fadim on the loose, was lurking within. Aramis remained with her, his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it at the first hint of danger. In one sense his presence was reassuring but in another, that someone could be in her rooms wishing her harm scared her. Was no place safe for her anymore? She could only think of one.

Athos appeared before her and bowed "Your Majesty, there is no one here, you are quite safe."

"Thank you Athos." Anne looked at him for the first time, actually seeing him, this weary soldier who defended her. "I wish to thank you, and all the Musketeers, for your diligence in ensuring my safety." She was wringing her hands again.

Athos looked at her carefully before bowing to her. "Your Majesty, it is our duty to protect you." he growled out. And then he withdrew with the others to the outer doors of her apartment.

Anne closed her eyes as the servants scurried around her and her ladies-in-waiting whispered away in the corner, no doubt lamenting the fact the Spanish queen had survived the latest attempt on her life. "Your Majesty?" Anne opened her eyes to see one of the servants indicating that some water had been brought so she could bathe.

One of the servants came forward to help Anne remove her ornate collar and jewels. "Thank you Giselle." Anne murmured. She raised her voice a little "Thank you but you may all go. I wish to have a little peace after the excitement of the day." She was ready to scream, she needed to be alone. All of the servants, except for Giselle, and the ladies-in-waiting bowed to her and headed out of the room.

Once Giselle had helped her remove her heavy gown she dismissed her as well. Anne wanted, needed some space to breathe, to think, to be alone. One of the many drawbacks of holding a position such as hers was little or no privacy.

As she washed her hands removing the last of the prison grime, they once again started to shake betraying her calm exterior and showing the true effect the day had had on her. Anne wiped her face with the cool cloth and took another deep, calming breath. She placed the cloth on the back of her neck, sighing as it relieved her aching muscles. She doubted there was anything that would relieve the discomfit within her mind however.

Anne thought of going to bed but she didn't feel like she could sleep. The rush of adrenaline was still running its way through her and she felt jittery, jumpy. Whether it was caused by the events or the fear she could not say. She wanted to talk to someone about what had happened today but there was no one she could share it with, she had no one she could trust.

Anne thought that if she could share it with someone perhaps it would seem less dramatic, less sinister. She would have loved to talk more to Aramis. He seemed very nice, caring and calm. He seemed to be relaxed even about the drama of the day. But this was probably just a 'normal' day for him and he would think her foolish.

She had felt safe in his arms, protected even as the guns fired and the heavy boots of the men ran past her. But it wouldn't be appropriate to talk to him. She could write, not to him but about the day. She went to the hiding place in her room for all the things she wanted to keep from prying eyes.

Anne took out a journal that she had first started when she came to France to marry Louis. She hadn't written in it a lot, just a few things like her wedding day and night, when she lost her child and her frustration at being able to get pregnant again. Things she wanted to share but had no one with which to do that.

Anne took the journal to her desk in her private sitting room and sat down in her chair. She opened the book, her eyes flitting over the previous entries and finally resting on the first blank page. She drew her quill into her into her hand and dipped it into the inkwell. A drop of ink dripped on to the cream page as she began...