Porthos, Aramis, and d'Artagnan entered Treville's office and looked casually around the room. Summoned to report to the palace, all three men stood dressed in their finest, ready to be ordered to do whatever needed to be done. They served France, her king, and Minister Treville. The room was darker than usual. Only one window was open and the sun cast light toward the floor, over the rug and highlighted the vibrant colors of blues, reds and creams. It illuminated Treville's frame as he stood with his back to the room while he peered toward the gardens that were just awakening to spring's warmer months.
Aramis shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Porthos, who shrugged. D'Artagnan rocked back and forth on his feet while he waited until he finally cleared his throat.
They heard Treville take a deep breath and watched him run his hand over his head and slowly turn toward them. There was an uncomfortable silence in the room as he stepped toward his desk, his demeanor sullen, face drawn, shoulders tense. He rapped his knuckles against the surface of his desk and looked at his men as they stared at him in question.
"Sir?" Aramis asked, and pulled his eyebrows together in concern. "You look displeased."
Treville took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. He swallowed, looked at each of them, and said, "Milady de Winter was arrested two weeks ago for the murder of the Marquis de Feron."
D'Artagnan winced, clinched his jaw, and shrugged. "We knew she was capable of anything. Why is this time different?"
"The Marquis de Feron is —" Treville grimaced, "was the king's much older, illegitimate half brother."
Aramis exhaled through puffed cheeks and placed his hands on his hips as he looked to the floor. Porthos rubbed the back of his neck and shifted his weight uncomfortably.
"She is expected to appear before the king and a small panel of court appointed trustees to defend her actions —"
"That's why you sent Athos away?" Porthos said.
"Athos can't know," Treville said. "He is too involved —"
"He loves her," d'Artagnan said.
Porthos cocked an eyebrow, looked side-eyed at d'Artagnan and then reluctantly nodded. He didn't understand why, after everything she had done to him, but there was a part of Porthos that wanted to protect his friend and he understood Treville's reasoning. "If 'e finds out," he said and shook his head and clinched his jaw. "If 'e finds out… an' learns we were a part of this…" He shifted again, nervously.
"The king is keeping this quiet. Those involved will be sworn to secrecy. He does not want his enemies or the people of Paris to make his brother a mockery. Illegitimate or not, he was close to the Marquis. Even the queen is not to know."
"This doesn't feel right," Porthos said and bit his bottom lip. "Doesn't feel right at all."
"If she's found guilty?" D'Artagnan asked.
"She'll hang," Treville said.
Aramis pulled on the tip of his mustache and then placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. He rubbed his cheek with his right hand and looked at Treville with a wince. "All of this is going to happen before Athos returns?"
Treville inhaled deeply and said, "You will need to keep him distracted if he returns — if he gets involved in this and conspires to release her… The king may not be merciful."
Aramis walked across the room to expend some of his energy and rubbed the back of his neck. "Why tell us?"
"This was a member of the king's family, Aramis," Treville said, "and…" he took a long pause, "I couldn't take a chance on anyone else knowing. The king has requested Musketeers be in attendance should she try to escape… given her reputation, he is unwilling to take chances. And… the king's history with her," he winced with pursed lips, "he cannot risk a scandal as we head to war… the king must appear strong, no matter the cost to anyone — including Athos."
D'Artagnan huffed and nodded. "This just gets dirtier and dirtier."
"How'd she kill 'im?"
Treville looked at Porthos. "Knife wound to his chest."
"Seems to be a favorite of 'ers," Porthos said and shifted uncomfortably.
"Is she in Paris now?" D'Artagnan crossed his arms over his chest, in an effort to curtail his anger.
"She's being held at the Bastille. Her trial —"
"It's not much of a trial, Cap — Minister Treville," d'Artagnan said. "She has a right to defend herself, to tell her side of the story." He shrugged. "I don't trust her, but how can she be denied the right to defend herself?"
Treville squared his shoulders and looked at d'Artagnan. "She has the opportunity to take her case before the king tomorrow afternoon. Given the situation…" he paused, "and my understanding of the situation, he very well could have ordered her death immediately —"
"If it's so bad," Aramis shrugged, "why didn't he?"
"King Louis agrees that everyone has a right to defend their actions — even those whose guilt is beyond question." Treville leaned against his desk. "I want you all there tomorrow."
Aramis looked at Treville and then glanced at the others. "If she's condemned to hang… how soon will it happen?"
"Friday."
"Athos is due back on Thursday?" Aramis raised his eyebrows.
"Delay him," Treville said.
"I don't like this," Porthos said. "Athos 'as a right to know… 'e 'as a right to speak on 'er behalf —"
"The king will only accept evidence of the crime, Porthos, not those willing to speak to her character."
"What character?" d'Artagnan quipped.
Aramis ignored him and asked, "Is there any indication of why she killed the Marquis?" He walked toward the fireplace and rested his arm on the mantle as he rubbed his brow.
"We'll know more tomorrow."
Aramis nodded, rubbed his chin, and then looked toward Porthos, who shook his head, and d'Artagnan, who remained standing in front of the desk. "If Athos finds out about this, and learns of our involvement… we'll lose him — he will walk away."
"Which is why it's imperative he not learn of this —"
"He won't walk away," Porthos said, "not with a war comin', but 'e'll lose 'is confidence in us."
