Celeste slipped into the palace and down the halls toward her rooms. She stopped outside of D'Artagnan's doors and listened nothing. She peeked into his office. Empty. She sighed and went back the way she had come but this time, she turned into the gardens.
D'Artagnan's eyes popped open. Something had woken him. But what? He sat up and looked around.
Suddenly, he heard it again. Something against his window.
He got out of bed and went over to his window.
Stones! Someone was throwing stones at his window.
He opened it and looked out. "Celeste!"
Celeste slipped into his room and hugged him tightly. "How are you?"
"Well. But where have you been?"
"Did Louis ask after me?" asked Celeste as she removed her cloak and black gloves.
"Yes. I said I had sent you to look for Athos."
"Good. Did he believe you?"
"I think."
Celeste sighed and sat down in a chair. She reached up and pulled the pins from her hair.
"You look terrible," said D'Artagnan sitting on the edge of his bed. "Where have you been?"
She sighed as she ran a hand through her hair. "Anywhere and everywhere you can imagine," she muttered.
"Is Athos…better?"
Celeste looked him. "Yes. He is recovering."
D'Artagnan breathed a sigh. Maybe it was a sigh of relief. Or maybe it was not. "How long can you stay?"
"I've come back for the ball," said Celeste. "And some rest. I'm…tired. very tired."
"Go and get some rest then," said D'Artagnan, rising. He came over to her and tugged her to her feet and kissed her forehead. "And I am glad you're back."
Next morning Celeste watched from her window as teams of servants filed in and out of the palace, carrying food and flowers to decorate the ballroom for that evening. Suddenly, she stood.
Anne and her devote retinue of nuns where moving in single file toward the garden chapel.
Celeste grabbed her cloak and ran from the room. She went around to the back of the chapel and slipped in. "They're coming."