Thank you all for your wonderful feedback. What a hoot is has been reading them! Two chapters tonight and then the final three tomorrow. I can't believe how quickly we're moving along.

And we're off (my grandmother used to say, like a herd of turtles)...

Aramis pulled his horse to a stop and the big black planted his hind hooves and mud crawled up his back legs. The footman took the reins as Aramis dismounted and jogged to the palace. He passed the guards, who nodded and then continued down the hallway to Treville's office. Light cascaded through the windows, dust particles danced, and the sun felt warm against his skin despite the cool afternoon. Fresh-cut flowers filled the vases along each of the alcoves and on either side of display cases that were filled with art, artifacts, and the king's personal treasures. Paintings hung from the walls between the windows and the tapping of his heels echoed with each step.

Aramis kept his hand grasped to the hilt of his sword to keep it from swaying, and then suddenly paused before the door leading to Treville's office. He took a deep breath, knocked, and then entered.

Treville looked up from his desk, frowned, and then suddenly stood. "Was the Prince attacked?"

"No, sir," Aramis said with a shake of his head. "His son, Prince William, fell into the river after we stopped for a brief break —" He held his hand up to stop Treville from rushing to the door. "The boy is fine." He sighed when Treville visibly relaxed and pressed his knuckles to the table and hung his head forward. "I suggested they return to the palace to have the boy seen by a physician."

"That's good. Athos and the others?" Treville looked up in question.

"Returning," Aramis said, and stepped forward as Treville pushed himself away from his desk and removed his doublet from the coat hanger. "Athos jumped into the water. D'Artagnan rode up stream and was able to pull them both to shore."

"Prince Henry's state of mind?"

"Unknown," Aramis said, as he followed Treville from the office.

"Was this an accident?"

Aramis frowned and looked questioningly at Treville. "What else?"

Minister Treville stopped suddenly and turned to look at Aramis. "We're headed to war. Prince Henry and his family have been at war and have a growing list of enemies who would not hesitate to bring him or his family harm, Aramis. — Do not underestimate the situation we are in."

Aramis quirked his chin and said, "It was an accident — the boy was playing on a downed tree —"

"I don't need the details. What I need is assurance that the Prince is on his way back to the palace and is out of harm's way."

"He is," Aramis said. His right eyebrow twitched, and he watched Treville take a deep breath before he continued toward the king's quarters.

"Find Doctor Vignes and see that he is prepared to meet to the family once they arrive," Treville said over his shoulder. He nodded toward the two guards who opened the doors to the king's quarters and Aramis stood watching dumbfounded as the doors opened and closed.

Aramis wasn't a fool, and he understood the threat of war, but he had not considered the overwhelming impact of France's involvement, nor the Spanish, as they continued their aggressive moves against the Dutch Republic. France's involvement would affect everyone, not just the soldiers fighting the war or their families, but the communities of merchants, farmers, craftsmen, and tradesmen. The shipping ports would be under scrutiny, taxes would increase, and supplies would be limited as time ate away at their tenacity and devotion.

Aramis rubbed his hand across his face, clenched his jaw, and then walked down the hall toward the physician's quarters. Since the brutal death of Doctor Lemay, the hiring of a competent doctor had been a challenge, but Howard Vignes had been selected and had proven himself despite the stresses involved. King Louis' headaches and stomach upsets were at times problematic, but the good doctor had found a solution that worked. Vignes had studied in Italy and earned a reputation as honest and inquisitive. If he did not know the solution, he searched for one, and he was never without his notebook as he documented what he researched and what he saw in practice.

Vignes was a short slender man, with dark brown, nearly black hair and a full beard and mustache. His beard was graying but his mustache was dark without a hint of salt to it. His right eye twitched, which had initially unsettled the king, but since those he knew and trusted ignored it, he had moved on to more important things.

Aramis knocked, listened for the call to enter, and then slowly opened the door. Doctor Vignes stood behind his desk, mixing a solution and making notes as he did so. The room smelled of lavender and sandalwood, a combination that immediately brought comfort to Aramis as he walked toward him. The scent was calming, relaxing, and familiar.

"I am working on a sleeping tonic using just the aroma of the tinctures," Vignes said. A pair of spectacles rested on the tip of his bulbous nose, and he smiled as he stood upright. "I hate giving ingestible when something less invasive works just as well. What do you think? Is it relaxing? Or too strong — I think it's too strong — less lavender, perhaps? I could always add lemon oil, but the citrus smell can sometimes stir the senses and I would rather they be relaxed."

Aramis looked over the table at the bottles of infusion oils, tinctures, the handwritten labels, the measuring spoons, and torn linens that lay in piles near the warming lamp. "It's relaxing," he said. "Doctor Vignes, I am here on behalf of the king."

Vignes immediately stopped what he was doing and looked at Aramis. He pushed his glassed up the bridge of his nose, which caused both eyes to appear larger and amplified the twitch of his right eye to amplify. "How can I be of service?"

"Prince Henry, the Prince of Orange, his son fell into the Seine river —" Aramis stood back as the doctor quickly moved into action and grabbed his bag.

"Continue. Is the boy harmed? How long was he submerged? Did he sustain any injuries? Is he speaking? Can he hear?" Vignes stood and looked at Aramis. "Well?"

"The boy seemed to be fine. He is returning to the palace out of caution. His family was on their way back to Amsterdam and the boy falling ill on their travels would not —"

"No," the doctor said, "of course not." He closed his bag, walked back to his desk and blew out his warming candle. "He grabbed the lavender and the sandalwood and smiled. "Perhaps now is a good time to try this out. I would assume the mother is quite frantic about this?"

"Of course."

"Once they arrive, I assume they'll be housed in the guest chambers in the eastern wing of the palace?"

Aramis scratched behind his ear. "I would assume —"

"Good," Vignes said, and waved his hand to the door. "We'll begin immediately — join me. Perhaps I can teach you a thing or two about physical responses to fragrances."

"Is there anything there for the ladies?"

Vignes paused, pulled his brows together in question, and then suddenly laughed. "I've heard about your gallivanting… Perhaps there is — but now is not the time!"