Hey guys, it's me again! So, after reviewing what I've already written (which is actually far beyond what I've posted so far), I noticed that while I was enjoying the way in which I was making things happen, I hadn't really been good at giving this story a way in which to actually develop into something that was hopefully enjoyable to read. I owe a huge thank you to Idiotic-Rebel for their comment on a chapter, because it really helped me to create this chapter. No, I hadn't written this one before. I apologize that this is a shorter chapter and probably not as interesting as the ones from before, or those that will follow, but I'm hoping this is a start of a better direction for this story. So, I leave you all to consider this...mistaken identity/kidnapping, or death of a character, which types of things sound interesting? I think I've been over thinking a few things, so now I'm trying to decide which kind of direction I want to take later on when things really get interesting and dangerous and fun...thoughts?

Chapter VII

"I don't belong here..."

She couldn't help the anger that was bubbling inside her at that very moment, her mind too clouded with the violent emotion to do much else but walk blindly through the endless corridors of the palace. The further away from everyone she was right now the better, she thought. None of the others seemed to understand what it was that bothered her so, thinking only that she was perhaps seeking some kind of attention after the role she had played in the events of the Bastille. But that wasn't it, Katherine wasn't just acting up for no reason. That had never been her way.

The events of the past few days had shaken the poor girl far beyond what she allowed to be seen on the surface, and terror at the very idea at having been in a place as cold and dark as the Bastille was still rampant in her mind. Katherine could still recall the horrible conditions in which so many of the prisoners had been forced to live, without the proper shelter to keep any of them from contracting the smallest of illnesses. There were precious few windows in the prison as well, which meant that while none could look in on the occupants of the Bastille, it also meant that those inside were not able to look at what lay beyond, refused the ability to look for some kind of forgiveness among the stars at night as she had so often done herself. She could only imagine what crimes were punishable by confinement in a place like that. Certainly sharing a face with another human being wasn't one of them, was it?

And yet she could not help but remember how she had nearly lost D'Artagnan because of that crime, knowing full well that Louis would probably have ordered something far worse for his twin brother if it were not for the fact that he believed them both to share the blood of a royal. In truth they did, though it was not of the same line that he was sure to think it was. Again she found herself confronted with anger, struggling against it as her feet carried her out of the palace and into an adjoining courtyard, finding the pathways that had been groomed for the use of the King. The whole affair was causing her great distress as she went over the details in her mind, unable to comprehend how they had all been dragged into the situation from the very beginning. For the most part she blamed Queen Anne, feeling that the woman must have done something to seduce her Uncle into loving her and thus creating their current troubles in the form of Louis and Philippe. But then she blamed D'Artagnan, who had been foolish enough to allow himself to feel such traitorous thoughts when it came to the one woman he ought not to feel anything more than devotion and loyalty toward. No, she thought to herself, this was Philippe's fault, for if he did not exist than none of this would have occurred...

A soft sigh fell from her lips as she slowly came to a stop and lowered herself onto the edge of one of the large fountains that sat in the middle of the yard, breathing slowly so as to help clear her mind just a little. She was anxious for D'Artagnan's health, there was no getting around that. She was upset at having been brought to the palace, where so many women before her had come and gone for a price she was not willing to pay. Fingertips lifted and gingerly touched her side, wincing a little as she pressed against the wound still freshly imprinted upon her skin. It was still rather tender, more so than she had hoped it would be after a short while, and it was beginning to nag at her slightly as she progressed through the day. Perhaps she would need to take another look at it, she decided, once she had allowed herself a few moments to gather herself together. The last thing she wanted was to approach anyone while she was still muddled in her thoughts.

The light tread of approaching boots caught her attention and caused her blue orbs to lift from the ground, fingers dropping away from her side and feet pressing against the grass until she was standing again. From around a hidden corner came a man in uniform, the very uniform she had one day hoped to see on Raoul before he had been sent back to the front lines and killed before he could propose to the woman he loved.

"I am sorry," the musketeer said gently, removing his hat from his head and sweeping her a bow with it. "It appears that I have startled you, Mademoiselle. Please forgive me."

He was young, she noted, not as young as Raoul but not yet as old as D'Artagnan. His hair was of an auburn colour, naturally curled and falling around his ears in a shorter fashion than she customarily saw among the King's men. "Startled?" she asked him slowly, tilting her head slightly to give him a look of slight confusion. "Do I appear startled to you, Monsieur?"

Standing back at his full height, the man replaced his hat atop his head and held his other hand against his sword, looking at Katherine with slight amusement twinkling in his eyes. "Perhaps a little," he said, slowly stepping forward to meet her. "I am not used to meeting anyone out here on my patrols. My name is Tolbert." A hand slowly extended and plucked one of her smaller ones from her side, where he then bent forward at the waist and pressed a light kiss to her knuckles.

"Katherine," she said slowly, bobbing a curtsey to him when he released his hold on her hand. "And just how did you come to be here, Lady Katherine?" The girl laughed softly. "Just Katherine," she clarified. "My father is currently a guest of the King. And I am afraid that my Uncle cannot be left alone in his current condition, so I suppose I too am here at His Majesty's request."

Perhaps it was because of the reputation that Louis had once had with women, or perhaps it was something else entirely, but the expression on Tolbert's face did not betray any kind of curiosity or confusion by the presence of the young woman within the palace grounds. If anything, he seemed to keep a rather neutral face that would easily throw anyone off of their game because they could not immediately read whether or not they had managed to gain the upper hand on him. It appeared that her Uncle's training was far more thorough than she had originally thought it would be, though she still held out the hope that she might one day be allowed to find this out on her own accord.

"Your father?" he asked her, a hint of question in his tone.

The young woman nodded slowly, brushing a stray piece of her hair back behind her ear and into a more proper place. "Aramis."

A single word was all it took for there to be a change in his demeanour, a startled sort of look that betrayed his astonishment as having the word "father" associated with his name in anything but a religious manner. His dark eyes widened as he looked at her, his lips parting as if to say something that he could not quite comprehend. But Katherine was rather accustomed to this reaction when it came to the mention of the man she called father, for few people understood that the ageing priest had simply adopted her out of the goodness of his heart and raised her as if she had been his own. It wasn't exactly a common practise among the men of the Church to adopt orphans in such a manner, as most of those children who were found on the doorsteps were quickly dispatched to the nearest orphanage to be cared for with many other children like them. That very well could have been her. And yet Aramis had taken pity on her, for reasons he had never disclosed to her, and allowed her to remain in his care for the past twenty years. He had praised her, scolded her, punished her, taught her...all of the things that a father should do to his child in order to see that they grow up into someone of whom they could be proud. Whether or not she had become that person yet though, Katherine wasn't sure.

But in Tolbert's defence, he seemed to make a quick recovery from his surprise. "I was not aware that he had a child at all," he said smoothly, offering Katherine another little bow as a small smile lit upon his lips. "Though I would hardly call you a child, Mademoiselle Katherine."

Her own curiosity took control at that point, causing a slight tilt of her head as she looked at at the young man with a raised brow, a smile perking the corners of her own mouth. "And what would you call me, Monsieur?"

The words were out before she had a chance to check herself and swallow them again, and Katherine mentally kicked herself for allowing such a foolish question to be released into the open like that. Her father would surely shoot her a disapproving look right now if only he could see her. Tolbert, however, only smiled a little further as he lifted his upper body once again and looked at her with a softened gaze, taking in her face with his dark brown eyes that lurked there beneath the brim of his hat.

"I would say that you are one of the most beautiful young women I have seen at court in a very long time," he answered gently, causing a flush to rise in her cheeks.

"Monsieur is too kind-"

But he brushed her words aside with a wave of his hand. "No. I only speak the truth."

An awkward silence began to settle in between them as Katherine's cheeks burned even brighter than they had before, too stunned by his compliments to say much in reply. The poor girl was not used to having such attentions paid to her, believing herself to be merely another face that was easily passed in the streets each day. And within the walls of the monastery that she called her home, there were not many young men who could turn their heads in the midst of prayer to cast their eye in her direction. But now was the time in which it was prudent for her to excuse herself from his company, realizing that if anyone else were to happen upon them right now, it would not be appropriate for a young woman who was a stranger to the palace to be seen with one of the King's musketeers and not another woman in sight.

"I should perhaps return to my apartments now," she said quickly, looking back from where she had initially come. "I fear that if I do not return soon my Uncle Athos will shortly come looking for me."

In an instant the smile had vanished from his face and a wide-eyed looked replaced it as he registered the name in his mind and frowned a little when it seemed to settle in. His reaction was one that startled Katherine. "Athos?" he demanded quickly, a frown forming on his face.

"Yes," she nodded, not understanding his reaction. "Is something the matter?"

But he was almost ignorant to the fact that she had even spoken now, his face turned slightly away from hers as he battled with his own internal thoughts. "I am afraid my duties require me elsewhere. Good day, Mademoiselle." With a touch of his hat he had turned on his heel and disappeared around the same corner from which he had initially appeared to her, leaving Katherine to stand in the courtyard on her own with a look of absolute confusion on her features. She hadn't seen such a reaction like that before when it came to the mention of Athos, despite the fact that he had grown increasingly more protective of her since the death of his son and often times refused to let her go anywhere without his presence.

Tolbert had moved away so quickly that Katherine could not part her lips in time to ask what it was that bothered him so at the mention of a name before he had disappeared from sight. A feeling of unease began to overtake her as her eyes remained locked on that spot though, a shiver coursing up her spine. Something felt off about his overreaction...but what was it? Giving her head a bit of a shake, Katherine focused her senses again on her previous motive, which was to return to the walls of the palace. She didn't know how long she had been absent, but she did know that she would need to go and see to things, ensuring that her family was settled into their rooms and that D'Artagnan was wanting for nothing during his stay. Turning slowly, the young woman cast only one more glance over her shoulder before she too retired from the courtyard, her own footsteps carrying her away from the spot of her sudden meeting. Perhaps in time, she would come to understand what that was all about.