I wake to the sun shining in my eyes, and immediately I wish I were asleep again. I would really rather just brood in darkness, but, obviously, the sun has other ideas. Sighing, I sit up with a hand on my head, being sure not to fall over. My head spins as I try to stand. I stumble a couple steps then hit the floor with a thud.

The door opens, and a second later James is kneeling beside me. "Corinne, are you alright?"

I swallow a laugh. "Yeah," I choke out.

He takes my hand and helps me to my feet. "What happened?"

"Before or after I woke up?"

"After." He sets me down on the bed.

I shrug. "The sun woke me up."

James is silent as he studies my face. "Are you okay?"

I furrow my eyebrows and look down at my arms. "Yeah. No bruises." I hold them up for him to see.

I smile flickers on his lips for a split-second, but it disappears as quickly as it was there. "No, I mean about Renée."

I frown and furrow my eyebrows. "Renée?" Realization flickers across my features. "Oh." I hadn't forgotten, but maybe I'm somewhat in denial.

He sets a hand on my shoulder. "Do you need anything?"

I bring my legs to my chest. "No… I don't think so. Maybe some food?" I look at him with pleading eyes. "I'm really hungry."

James nods and steps out of the room. I collapse back onto the bed and groan. Why is my life so terrible? Why do the worst things always come crawling back to me? Why is my happiness always disrupted by something unspeakably horrible? This I may never know.

James is back in less than three minutes with bread, fruit, and cheese. "Aramina's not feeling well, so she's staying in bed for a little while," he explains.

"Why? Is she okay?"

He sighs, setting a plate on my lap. "Just, uh, a little heartbroken, you know? It's been really rough on her; hearing of your death, being kicked out of the musketeers, and now Renée. The poor girl's going to go gray prematurely." I nod as I chew. James studies my face, as if looking for something, but then shakes his head and drops his gaze to the floor.

I realize something as I stare at his eyes. I brush my thumb across the dark circles under his eyes. "James, how long have you been here?"

He shrugs. "Around a day and a half."

I shake my head. "What about you parents?"

"I told them that you and your roommate were sick, and they let me go." He strokes his fingers across my cheek then stands. "I'm going to go check on Aramina. Do you need anything else?"

I shake my head, and he leaves. I blush as soon as the door is closed. I shouldn't be surprised, because I know how caring he is, but this is still odd for me to get used to. Not that I don't like it. I actually find it quite delightful that someone cares about me.

I'm up by noon that day, but Aramina stays in bed for another few hours. I hadn't realized how much she cared about Renée until this happened. Of course, I care about Renée, too, but she was always so strong that she drifted from my thoughts a lot more often than the others did. Now I just feel so guilty I hadn't appreciated her more than I had.

James stays and takes care of us, though I keep telling him that he should go home and rest and that I can take care of everything just fine. He refuses every single time and always says, "You are more important to me than rest."

When Aramina finally appears in the main part of the apartment, James and I say nothing as we take in her… disheveled appearance; her cheeks are red from crying and her hair is in disarray.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice almost hoarse. "I guess I sort of lost it."

I immediately wrap my arms around her. "No, Aramina, don't apologize. You had the right to." I pull back and stare her in the eye.

Her lip quivers. "Corinne, I-"—her voice cracks—"I just… can't believe she's gone. She was one of my best friends." She laughs, a short, raspy sort of sound. "I guess she was your friend, too, right?" I crack a smile. "She always liked you best, you know. I knew that even before she left. I was always a bit irritating to her, but I knew she cared about me." Tears start falling slowly out of her eyes, and I feel some gathering in my own. "What will I do without her?"

I bite my lip and once again pull her into my arms. "You haven't seen her in years, Ara. Just do what you did then."

"But I believed she was alive then. I never knew what happened to her, so I assumed she was alive."

I'm about to reply, but a knock on the door stops me. I glance curiously at James, but he's halfway to the door with the help of his long legs. He opens the door, but James's frame blocks the visitor from view.

The conversation is too low to hear, but I can make out the words "father," "Cobras," and "angry," if that can tell you anything. I walk up behind James and duck under his arms which are braced on the doorframe. I see a tall—are all Black Cobras tall, or is it just a coincidence that every one of them are six-foot-whatevers?—and blond-haired boy standing with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Who's this?" I ask, turning to James.

He sighs deeply. "This is Oscar." He says the name with such a dismal look, that I can help but giggle.

Oscar smiles widely, takes my hand, bows, and kisses my knuckles. "Oscar Antoine William Chastain." He straightens up and nods to James. "This boy's cousin, I might add."

Oscar. I know that name. My eyes widen in realization. Oscar. The boy who had been in the café when I first saw James.

"Go away, Oscar," James growls.

He laughs, ignoring him, and turns his attention back to me. "So, is this the girl you've been blabbering on about?"

James sighs in what seems like defeat. "Yes."

"She's much too pretty for you."

James scowls and hits Oscar—open-palmed, at least—in the chest. "Shut up, Oscar!"

It barely fazes him. "It's true! You talked about her for an hour straight last week!"

"Shut up, Oscar!" James's cheeks turn a shade of pink I've never seen before.

Oscar peers over James's shoulder at Aramina. "You making girls cry again, Jamie?" He tuts at him. "Didn't you father ever teach you how to treat a lady?"

James's hands curl into fists. "Shut. Up. Oscar."

I set a reassuring hand on his arm, and James sighs. "Can you please leave now?"

Oscar holds up a hand in defense. "Hey, I'm just saying that your father is not happy about this."

James rolls his eyes. "Do I look like I care?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Do you want me to tell him that?"

James's eyes widen. "Hell no!"

Oscar smirks. "Didn't think so." He turns back to me and bows. "Until we meet again, my lady."

"Are you sure there's going to be a next time?" I ask.

He smiles. "I'm certain of it." One wink in James's direction later, he's jogging down the hall.

I giggle. "What was that all about?"

James shuts the door and collapses on Aramina's couch. "Just Oscar trying to be helpful again."

"He's your cousin?" I raise an eyebrow. "You don't look anything alike."

He lets out a strangled laugh. "On my mother's side, yes. His father—my uncle—is about as blond as they come."

I settle into the couch next to him. "I see."

Aramina sniffles next to us. "Well, uh, you know what, I think I'll go out for a bit."

I stand quickly. "Aramina, are you sure? I could come with you."

"That's alright," she says, grabbing her basket. "I just need some air, and I'll pick up something for dinner." Without another word, she's gone.

I sigh, turning to James. "I'm worried about her."

He nods. "I know."

James and I leave later that night for his parents' manor. I didn't want to come with him, but he told me that his father would not hear of anything otherwise. Apparently (and I have no idea how), they like me.

I'm greeted by Lady Eleanor with an embrace, and by Captain Baudin with a bow. Emily and the other girls are absent. I'm brought inside the manor, and, once again, the place takes my breath away. I'll never get used to its divine features.

"So, my dear," Captain Baudin says as we walk, "my son tells me you've been sick."

I fake a laugh—not very well, I will add. "Oh, just a, uh, little cold, monsieur. I'm fine, really. He's very overprotective." Lady Eleanor's smile visibly widens. She must be putting the pressure on to get him married off.

"Well, I'm glad you're well, my dear," Baudin says. "And if there's anything you need just ask. We'd be glad to help."

I smile. "Thank you. I will keep that in mind."

It's silent except for the clicking of my shoes, but instead of the anxiety I usually feel when I walk these halls, it's as if there's a peaceful aura surrounding us all. As if confirming my thoughts, James takes my hand and laces his fingers through mine.

I fight the blush creeping up my cheeks. "What about you parents?" I whisper.

He moves his lips so that they brush my ear. "Let them see."

I let out a soft laugh and gently squeeze his hand. We walk like that to the dining room, but we don't separate at all through dinner. Even as we sit in the parlor together, our hands stay firmly clasped together as if they're our lifeline. I guess in a way, he is my own lifeline.

"It's official," James says as he walks me out several minutes before the carriage is due. "My mother loves you."

I playfully roll my eyes. "Yeah, right."

James nudges me. "I'm serious. She's going on and all about how pretty and talented and eligible"—he draws out the word as long as he can—"you are. I told her if she's so smitten with you she should marry you herself."

I burst out laughing. "You did not say that!"

He lets out a small chuckle. "Yes, I quite assure you I did."

I put my hand over my mouth to muffle the giggles. "God, you're terrible."

He smirks. "I know."

How did I come to deserve this beautiful person? I've done nothing. I'm being selfish. I'm not letting him find someone better than me. I'm not letting him live up to his full potential. I'm not letting him allow himself to see the truth of what I am.

But as I watch him smile, and laugh, and move, and breathe, I can't help but not care about what's right and wrong. But as far as I'm concerned, everything with him in it is right. It doesn't matter, even then. Nothing matters right now. Nothing else matters but us, and the way his fingers tangle into my hair, and the way his arm pulls me closer, and the way my hands memorize the curves of his face, and the way his lips are a perfect match against mine. And the way I know that he adores me.

This is better than any kiss I'd ever had. Ask me a few weeks ago, and I would have argued that, but now… That doesn't matter anymore. The past is past. I need to focus on the future, this perfectly amazing future.

"Well well. Look what we have here."

James and I break apart immediately at the sound of the voice. I blush when I see Emily standing on the top step with her arms folded across her chest.

"Emily! What are you doing out here?!" James growls.

She laughs, and slowly comes down each step until she's at our level. "This is my home, too, you know."

James sighs. "Would you leave? Please?"

Emily comes up right next him and sets an arm on his shoulder. "Actually, Jamie, I need to talk to your… significant other for a moment, if you don't moment."

He scowls. "Actually, I do mind, thank you very much."

She rolls her eyes. "God, I wasn't giving you an actual choice. Do I have to spell it out for you? Leave." Emily links our arms together, and I watch as James stomps up the steps and back inside, muttering some not-so-nice things on the way.

I face Emily with a very confused look on my face "Can I… help you?"

She smiles. "I think the question you should be asking is 'How can you help me,' you got that?"

"Not reall—"

"Well, that's great!" she exclaims, cutting me off. "You see, Corinne—"

I gasp. "What! You mean you know my—"

Emily groans. "Do I know your name is not Marie? Yes, obviously. You told me at the ball. Remember?"

"Oh, righ—"

"Shut it! I'm trying to talk."

"Sorry," I whisper.

Emily smiles. "Okay then." She sets a hand on my shoulder. "Corinne, as you know, my father is out to get you." I nod slowly. "Well, I kind of like you, and I sense that my brother does also, so here." She shoves an envelope into my hand. I move to open it, but she stops me. "No. Not right now. You can't let anyone know about this. Not even my brother. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I whisper, nodding, "but why can't I tell James?"

Emily glances around, as if there may be someone listening to our conversation. "Just, please. Don't ask questions. It's important that you don't."

I look down at the envelope in my hands and sigh. "Alright."

She smiles. "Thank you." And the next thing I know, she's gone and James is trudging down the steps.

"What did she want?" he asks with a deep sigh.

I slowly move my arm that's holding the envelope behind my back. "Oh, nothing. Just, uh, you know, girl talk."

He smirks. "She certainly has the best timing in the world."

I let out a strangled laugh and stare at my shoes to hide the blush rising to my cheeks. "Yeah."

James looks curiously at me. "Hey, are you alright?"

I curse myself again for being such a terrible liar, but I'm not able to complete my mental thrashing before the carriage stops in front of us. I shake my head and put a very fake smile on my face. "Perfect."

James opens the carriage door but only lets me onto the first step before halting me. "I'll come by tomorrow after my shift, okay?" I nod, and he kisses my cheek. I sit on the plush velvet seat, waiting for him to close the door. "Take care of yourself, darling," he says with a smile and closes the door.

I sit there, frozen still. He did not just call me that. He couldn't have, right? He couldn't have called me the one name that he had. I shouldn't be so surprised. It's not like we were the only—I nearly scowl as I think it—couple in this world that uses the name. But I just… I can't get over it. Everything here reminds me of him. Every sidewalk, every building, every person—it's all his. It's hard to stay in this place with all the reminders of everything that's happened to me. But the thing is...

The thing is I can't find the courage to leave.

Aramina's asleep when I get to her apartment. I try to sleep, but I can't seem to relax, so I get up to make myself tea. After I fill the kettle with water and set it on the stove, I sit at her table, my face in my palms.

I replay the entire sequence of the last few days in my head—James and my kiss, Renée's death announcement, Oscar, the Baudins. There's so much going on at once, and I can't figure any of it out.

Then I remember the envelope. I nearly flip over my chair when I jump up, and I scramble back to my room. It's sitting on the chair my dress is draped over. God, how had I forgotten about it? I move back to the kitchen, pour myself a cup of tea, and sit. With a pin from my hair, I slice open the envelope and slide a paper out of it.

It's a list of names.

Gabriel Bruschelle

Anthony Devereaux

Thomas Smith

William Reynolds

Bertram Faulkner

And more names.

Jonathan Davids

Javier Delacruz

Warner August

Etienne Descoteaux

Gustave Guistolle

Philippe Rousseau

I stare at the page for what feels like an hour. I can't believe it. Names? That's it? What am I supposed to do with names?

"Are you okay?" a small voice says. I gasp and whip my head back up. Aramina's daughter—Juliet, I remember—stands in front of me with a curious expression on her face.

"Y-yeah."

She takes a step toward me. "Are you sure? You don't too good."

I stand quickly, gathering my items, and head for the kitchen to put away my cup. "I'm great. Thanks. Can I get you something?"

She shakes her head. "No. I heard a noise, so I came out to see what it was."

I nod. "Well, uh, just me." I let out a nervous laugh.

Juliet looks curiously at me. "If you say so." A minute or so passes, but she still doesn't leave. I'm about to ask her again if she needs something, but she says, "Is something wrong my mother?"

I bite my lip. "Uh…" The question takes me by surprise. "Well, uh, kind of." I sit down in a chair, and she does the same. "Aramina had this dear friend back a long time ago, and… she just found out she passed away."

Her face turns somber. "How?"

"Uh… she got really sick and couldn't find a doctor," I say.

"Will that happen to my mother?"

Now that question takes me by surprise. "No!" I nearly shout. "No, of course not."

Juliet lets out a breath of what seems to be relief. I smile. "Now, uh, off to bed with you."

She smiles at me for a second before retreating back to her room. I let out a sigh and walk back into my own bedroom. I feel exhausted now, I realize as I lie down. The darkness starts to overtake me almost immediately, but I see the paper Emily gave me on the nightstand before I close my eyes.

Bertram Faulkner, Philippe Rousseau. The names are repeated back to me in my head. Assassin-For-Rent. Power-hungry Regent.

I snap my eyes open.

It's not just a list of names, I realize.

It's the list of people who want me dead.

(A/N: BUM BUM BUM! Gosh, this chapter, though not very fluffy, I know, is one of my favorites. That ending just gives me chills every single time. Happy September! Sorry! I tried to update Tuesday, but the server was down, so I couldn't! I'm over one-third the way from being done with chapter 13, but I'm starting to lose interest, so I just have to keep writing until everything is tied up. And guess what! It's only 32 days until my birthday! Eeek! I can't wait! I'm also starting a new oneshot, by the way! I can't give too much away, but I will tell you it's modern… and it's an AU based off one of my most favoritest (I am well aware that's not a word) movies ever! *Gasp* Maybe I'll post it as a birthday present to myself! :D

And, OMG, I absolutely love how I can say to Lyssita Lennon "Your trash son" and everyone knows exactly whoI'm talking about. I laughed so many times.

Replies:

Despicable Margo: Haha. I know. Poor bae Louis. (And I mean that is the actual Dutch translation. Look it up. :D) I'll try to get in as much fluff as possible, but this does have to be action-y for many reasons. I'll see what I can do. You already read my When We Were 18 story, I saw, but I'll try to add some more! And no! I love your reviews! Long reviews are great and so are short ones! I think your length is fine.

Lyssita Lennon: Hee. I thought you'd like that. I love the theories, but I cannot say anything even though I really really want to. Wow. That's a lot of fucks. Poor James. :P And you don't want to know how hard I laughed when you were talking about Renee fucking shit up from beyond the beyond with her ghost sword. Haha. That's awesome. Hey, rants are great. Rants are awesome. Good luck in school to you, too!

Paris4eva: Eeek! I'm sorry! Don't kill me! :D

PrincessGeekelle: Actually Renee is my second favorite musketeer, beside Corinne. Sorry. She's just very killable, you know? Hey, I love kisses with the people I don't ship... Sometimes.

Turquisea: TEAM PUPPY KITTEN FOR LIFE! Haha. Best quote I've seen in a review so far :D Lol.

Esmee-lynn: Really? I'm so glad! *Blushes* No, no. I couldn't... Okay. Haha. I was really trying to get all the emotion that Corinne feels realistic and such, but since I've never been in such deep of conflict, I can't say if it's good or not for myself. What do you think? Hopefully we get to see Louis again soon, but I will say it's not for a while. Yep, killing off is a bit of my thing, and I'm not afraid to do it no matter how hard people will scream at me. Thank you for saying that! Another pro-Helsa shipper?! Eeeeek! That's amazing! Corippe, yeah, it's pretty odd, but... Eh, it could happen (not). My goal for this story is 20 chapters, but hopefully I'll go a bit over. Thanks for such another nice review! And long reviews are great! Actually, any reviews are great!

Guest: Haha. *Fist bump* Team Louis. Glad you liked the kiss, though!

IcyFairy: Actually, Renée is my second favorite musketeer! I love her so! :P

Thanks for all the reviews, guys! Later!

Weatherbug02)