Hey all, here's another chapter. If you're bored with it, please don't be for too long. I'm hoping to keep you on your toes for a bit with certain things, so if you're interested in where things are going, please let me know! The comments of liking the story are great, but tell me what you like and what you'd like to see and maybe you'll get some of it. You never know, right? Anyway, here's another instalment to keep you all looking forward to more.

"What do you expect her to do, Aramis? Come sobbing to you when something is bothering her in the hopes that you can fix everything? She is not a child anymore."

Aramis closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as Athos spoke to him, knowing his friend to be right, though he didn't care to admit it aloud. Everything seemed to have changed in the days since Philippe's rescue from the Bastille. D'Artagnan was on the mend and being carefully watched by Katherine at all times, and while the three of them were now safe with the knowledge that they need not fear any kind of punishment from their king there was still the issue of his daughter that plagued his mind constantly. The time he had spent in the chapel earlier with Philippe and Anne had been a moment of reflection for the priest, who prayed fervently to God to give him some kind of way to end the madness they seemed to be spiralling into. There had yet to be any kind of response that he could recognize, which had left him to return to his room and begin pacing back and forth across the rug until Athos had come knocking, Porthos in tow.

"No, she is not," he agreed, dropping his hand away from his nose. "But she is still my child, in whatever sense of the word. And even though she will not talk about it, I know there is something wrong."

He had raised Katherine from that tiny infant who had been left on his doorstep nearly twenty years ago, ignoring the protests of the other priests that their life was not one intended for a child. There had been something about her that had quickly grabbed Aramis by the heart and held on tightly to it, refusing to let him live another moment of his life without a thought for the babe. Now she was a young woman of twenty, and while most girls were betrothed or married at this age, he could still remember the day that she had come to him and asked not to be placed in an arranged marriage at all. And while he had initially been unsure of how to handle such a request from a girl, he eventually agreed. The old priest gave a soft sigh, slowly rising to his feet again as he resumed his pacing back and forth across the room.

"You saw it too, Athos. I know you saw it in that meeting with Philippe."

From where he leaned against the fireplace mantle, Athos knew that he couldn't deny that fact. He shifted his arms and folded them tightly over his chest, glancing over toward Porthos as they both took note of just how slowly Aramis seemed to move about the room. "I saw a great many things in that room," he said almost cryptically, not yet wishing to bring about the topic of D'Artagnan and the Queen. "Including how quickly Kate fell silent because of looks she got from you and the way in which D'Artagnan spoke to her."

The relationship she shared with each of the four men had been different over the years as they watched her grow, taking on various roles that would help to shape the woman she had become. Aramis had always been the father figure, the one to enforce the use of manners and an importance of prayer so that she would not be lead astray by temptation. Athos had brought Raoul along to be her playmate in their early years, believing that it would be good for the two of them to interact with children closer to their own age and not simply the adults they were otherwise surrounded by. Her ability to love things at a glance had come from Porthos, who had also managed to teach her the importance of knowing how to find joy in the simplest of things without settling for them. But it was D'Artagnan who had first begun instructing the girl to fight with a sword, feeling that her ability to defend herself might one day save her life. and yet, in teaching her that, he also passed on a lesson that he had learned from Athos long ago. Killing was not necessarily the answer to a problem, but an ultimate end if there was nothing else she could do in order to save herself or someone else from suffering an undeserved fate.

Porthos adjusted his stance a little, glancing between his two friends. "Maybe she is just uncomfortable," he suggested, resting a closed fist against his hip. "She has never been this close to the palace before, and now she's being summoned before a king."

Had they been discussing almost any other girl, there might have been some sense in his words, Athos thought. The life that Katherine lead with Aramis in the monastery was far simpler than the one that Philippe would now have in the palace, void of material objects and elaborate clothing that would otherwise distinguish a poor girl from a Queen. But of course, they were not talking of just any girl. They were talking of Katherine, the one girl who mattered the most in their lives.

"We cannot make her tell us what is hurting her," reasoned Athos slowly. "When she is ready to speak, she'll go to someone that she trusts."

The unasked question now became just who she would turn to when she was ready. She knew just how close the four friends were, and so the chances of her coming to one of them were much lower than they had ever been because she would know that they would discuss it behind closed doors. Not because they wished to share her secrets, but because they loved her dearly and would all wish to find a way in which to help her cope.

Aramis continued his slow pacing across the room, eyes downcast and staring intently as if the floor itself could offer up a solution to the predicament he now faced. These were the moments he had dreaded as he watched his daughter blossom into a beautiful young woman, knowing that his experiences and skills as a musketeer could not prepare him for the situations he would face as a father. Swords could not help him ease her fears, nor could prayer allow her to open her heart to him if she was intent on keeping something hidden deep within herself.

"She will not have forgiven Louis for nearly killing D'Artagnan," he spoke gruffly as he came to a stop and tilted his head to look at both men. "And in seeing Philippe she may very well continue to connect the two of them in her mind. She does not know him as we do." It was a bit of a stretch, he admitted to himself, but it was at least something for them to begin building upon.

Porthos looked confused. "Why would she hate Philippe if she knows nothing about him?" Aramis sighed, scratching his head a little as he continued to think the entire thing through. "I cannot be sure."

An uncomfortable silence fell upon them as each man pondered the reasons behind such a thing. It was a dangerous thought to have, hating the man who sat on the throne, and while they were all sure that Philippe would do nothing about it if he were to find out, they couldn't help but fear the treasonous thought that probably ran rampant in Katherine's mind. Such thoughts had often prompted people into taking action against the threat that they saw, and very seldom did something like that end well for the person involved. Louis had been ruthless against people who questioned his superiority during his reign, but Philippe was inexperienced and young in comparison. That would put Katherine in a much more precarious position if ever she were to act upon such thoughts. Not even they could risk the safety of Philippe's reign as King of France.

"What do we do?" Porthos asked quietly, clearly as concerned about the situation as they all were.

There was no immediate answer, for none of them knew what the answer was. Finding themselves in difficult situations had been a part of their lives for so long that they had grown accustomed to finding a way out of it...but not when the matter was so personal in nature. "We keep this from D'Artagnan," Aramis decided. "At least until he has healed enough to be included." They all nodded in agreement, knowing that such news would come as a terrible blow for the already wounded man. Adding to the strain of his recovery would be heartless on their part. "And we keep a careful eye on everything."

Plans had been set in motion to help cover up the strange happenings around the castle since the night of the masquerade, beginning with a ceremony that would honour all four men for saving the life of the King from a plot to place an imposter on the throne. Philippe was certain that they would then be able to continue their lives as if nothing had happened at all, ensuring them all to be safe in the future. But until such a ceremony could be had and the ball that followed was over and done with, Aramis would not be able to relax. Only when he and Katherine were back to leading their quiet lives at the monastery and away from the chaos of court would he be secure in the knowledge that all was well.

"Philippe wishes to have this ceremony as soon as D'Artagnan is able," Athos murmured. "None of us knows how long that may be, for nobody but Katherine ministers to him."

Aramis nodded, staring into the flickering fire as he searched for some kind of answer. "Let it continue that way, unless either Philippe or the Queen request a change. At least then we shall know what is going on at all times."

Porthos nodded his head in consent, looking to Athos who followed suit. They were not out of danger yet, he decided, far from it. And until Philippe was secure in his new role as King, the dangers would only continue to pile up until something either laid them all to rest or brought about a suspicion that would rock the throne once again.