Evette sat in the Bonacieux dining room. She could hear the hustle and bustle of the people outside and resented their ignorance about the murderer. She was not accustomed to being locked up in a room all day, she was a farm girl, and she needed the open air and rolling hills like night sky needed the stars-without it she felt empty.

She thought back to her conversation with Athos and was saddened that his interest in her was impure. She had hoped he'd have been different.

Evette was tired of being leered at by men, tired of the control they had over women. That is why she acted as she did, kissed whom she liked and revelled in joy when it was them caught off guard and were stunned into silence. She smiled at Aramis' face when she kissed him, she regretted the feelings it brought out in him, but they both knew he'd move on. There was no future for her and Aramis, he needed a respectable woman, someone who wasn't broken.

Her moment with Porthos was fleeting. He epitomised to her what a soldier should be, he was strong and ruthless, but he cared and wasn't afraid to show it. Warmth radiated off him and you couldn't help but feel protected when he was around. They were friends at least she would like to think that they were, or could be.

D'artagnan couldn't be swayed. He couldn't see Evette, not really. All he could see was what happened to her before. He saw her younger self; she only had a fraction of the attitude she carried with her today but she was still stronger than the average girl. She enjoyed flirting and the company of men and with no other women around, no mother to bring her up she had become accustomed to being around them. She liked to tease and play but she knew where to draw the line, despite what D'artagnan thought, she had boundaries. He couldn't see that what happened was not her fault. Why should she reap the consequences of an act that she didn't sew? He wouldn't understand it. She'd tried to stop it but wasn't strong enough and she was beginning to fear that he would never believe her. The idea he had of her wasn't real; he'd created it based on what had happened to her, not what she had done. There's a difference in what happens to you and what you happen to do. She swore on that day that she would not let a man dictate her life and if that made her a social pariah, then so be it. She would rather live a life alone than one forced upon her surrounded by people she couldn't stand.

She wanted D'artagnan to understand. She thought back to their upbringing when they were happy. As children they played together, they fought one another, they helped one another. When their father began teaching D'artagnan how to sword fight Evette could remember being consumed with jealousy. She begged her father to allow her to try but he could not be swayed. She memorised their routines, watched closely at their quick reactions and longed to try it herself. One morning she remembered, she awoke early, the sun had yet to rise and the moon was still glowing. She took D'artagnan's sword and made her way over to one of their fields. She hid herself behind a large tree and swung the sword. It was heavier than she thought it would be and her arm felt weak under its weight. She had to hold it with both hands and she tried her hardest to replicate the moves she had seen D'artagnan execute. Just as her arm was tiring and the sun was threatening shine its light upon the day, D'artagnan appeared and teased her until she felt the sting of tears in her eyes. He realised that he had hurt her feelings and made her an offer.

"How about you practice with me? We won't tell father, and he can't know that I'm teaching you. If I'm ever to become a musketeer, I need to be an expert swordsman."

She smiled at this memory and longed for the days where their relationship was based on more than the fact that they were kin to one another. In the years that followed, she became quite skilled at the sword, but when D'artagnan's strength grew she struggled to keep up with him. But, she still considered herself a worthy opponent-should the circumstance ever arise.

As she was pondering and quite distracted by her memories, she hadn't heard the door open and close, nor had she realised that there were others in the house. She stood up when she saw D'artagnan, he hadn't expected her to be there and he told her that he was looking for Constance. She told him that she was in the back rooms with her husband and he nodded cordially and went to find her. Evette hadn't noticed Athos was behind him. They stood awkwardly for a moment before she offered him a drink.

"No. Thank you. But I'll take a seat if you don't mind sitting in my company for a few minutes?"

She motioned to the chair at the head of the table and they both sat. The awkwardness crept over them once again.

"I apologise for offending you earlier." He locked eyes with her and her heart fluttered a little. She did her best to ignore it. "You misconstrued what I was saying and I'm sorry for not being clearer with you." Her eyebrows knotted together as she wondered what he had actually meant to say. He didn't continue to explain his apology, instead he asked; "I trust your run in with Aramis hasn't affected you too badly?"

She was surprised that he knew, she didn't think that anyone did. He continued to look at her expectantly and for once she felt lost for words. When she didn't offer a response she again spotted what seemed to be the beginnings of a smile form in the corners of his mouth. She didn't like to be teased and finally said, "Not at all Monsieur. Like I told Porthos, I'm stronger than I look."

"Yes...you are aren't you?"

D'artagnan re-entered the room and Athos got up quickly from his seat. "Right, I was just telling the Bonacieux's that I won't be back tonight." He said to his sister, she nodded because she didn't quite know whether to engage in conversation or not. They had not spoken since she had let him know that she knew of his affair with Constance and even before that they had not had a civil conversation since her arrival. "You need to make sure the door is locked and stay here, especially after it gets dark." This new attentive side was a surprise to Evette, he almost seemed to back to his old self, the kind she remembered from before everything between them changed. "I'll be back in the morning." He nodded to her and made to leave. Athos bid her au revoir and the musketeers left. She was again left alone and mulled over her conversation with Athos. Never had she felt so rejected by a man whilst feeling such a strong pull toward him. It made her feel uneasy.

Outside the two men made their way through the busy crowd.

"That was very mature of you." Athos commented to his young friend.

"Well, it doesn't look like she'll be leaving anytime soon, so it's best to try and get on."

Athos agreed silently and fought the urge to smile.