Here is another chapter! I'm heading into major production for a show that I'm in right now, and I'll be visiting NYC for the very first time this weekend, so I can't promise that I will be able to update within the next few weeks, but I promise that I shall do my utmost to keep giving you guys something to read! There will likely be some shorter chapters in the future to help create some more questions for you as well, so stay tuned for those! Please send me a review if you can!

Chapter XXVII

"You look much better today."

Katherine smiled brightly as she took another slow step forward, feeling his strong arm shift with her body and his fingers continue to hold her hand with the same steady grasp he had used for the last ten minutes. Though he had insisted on carrying her down the stairs from her room and into the gardens himself so as not to tire her body, she secretly suspected that there were other motives behind Porthos' request, for with all of the time that he spent watching over Philippe he had rarely had an opportunity to check in with her and see how her health was progressing. In the hour since he had left the young King under D'Artagnan's careful watch he had made his way up to her room and found her to be in the company of her father, who had been more than happy to hear how his daughter wanted to go and walk around in the gardens. But there was a weariness in his face that Katherine would not ignore, and so she had asked that Porthos accompany her while her father attempted to rest himself before dinner. Neither of them could deny what they saw in Aramis, but he was still rather stubborn in his old age and had refused to acknowledge that anything was wrong. Instead he had simply nodded in agreement to his daughter's words, kissed her forehead and left the room.

She had wished to try walking down the corridors and into the garden herself, wondering if perhaps she was strong enough to make such a journey and then still enjoy her time among the flowers and sunshine. Still afraid of her fragile state, Porthos had quietly argued that perhaps she was not yet ready to demand such a thing of her body and gathered her in his arms to walk them both downstairs. She hadn't really fought him on the matter, insisting only once that she was feeling up to the task before he had given a firm shake of his head and scooped her up from the chair she had been sitting in. Her health had progressed well enough that she had been out of her bed and dressed in her own clothes that day, simple cotton dresses of rich colours that had been quietly put into her room at Queen Anne's orders so that she might not be forced back into the rough wool of her skirt to soon. The one she wore that day was of a blue so bright that it would almost rival the brilliant shade of her eyes.

"I feel much better, Uncle," she assured him gently as she took another small step forward. "Must you worry so much?"

"You had us all rather worried, my dear," he reasoned, dark eyes watching her body for any sign that it might have weakened on her since they began their walk. "We nearly lost you to your sickness. It is only natural that we continue to worry until you are perfectly whole again."

While she knew his words to be correct, Katherine didn't much feel like entering that conversation with him. Of her uncles, only Porthos had yet to chastise her in any way for her actions and the consequences they had come to bear, for which she was incredibly grateful. All he had truly done was express his own joy at knowing she was alive, wrapping his strong arms around her body in order to keep her upright. No harm would come to her while he was around, not by her own hand or that of anyone else. All he continued to do was hold out his left arm so that she might have a firm grip on him as they moved and curled the right around her waist for added support in case her knees should begin to buckle.

"Is everything alright?" he asked her, lifting his head to glance at the face of his niece with questioning eyes. "You have been rather quiet, Kate."

"Is that so unusual, Uncle?"

"For you? Yes."

Laughter fluttered past her lips as she nodded toward the bench nearby. "Might we rest for a moment?"

He need not be asked twice. As soon as he saw the bench Porthos began to steer the two of them toward it and gingerly shifted the control that he had over Katherine's body until she was comfortably seated on the surface. Only when he saw that she had relaxed from the effort of lowering her body did he join her, perched precariously on the edge so that he might leap up at a moment's notice. This did not escape the notice of his niece though, for Katherine was rather unaccustomed to seeing Porthos so stiff and alert.

"Perhaps I should be asking you if everything is alright," she commented lightly, finding that his eyes flickered to her with a look that betrayed him to be caught off guard. "What has you so on edge, Uncle?"

Porthos shook his head, quickly masking all of the surprise in his face. "It is nothing, Katherine, nothing to be concerned with."

She closed her eyes, sighing softly to herself. "Is this my punishment then?" she asked him quietly as she opened her eyes again to stare into the distance ahead of her. "Am I not to be told what dangers Philippe might be in? I have heard the servants whispering about the palace, I know there is something that has all of you keeping a much closer eye on him than before."

Well, if nothing else he could not deny that she was persistent. He had been warned by the others that Katherine had begun to question what was going on around her, especially since she had seen the way that Philippe was hurried away from her room with at least two men to guard him. None of them had yet offered up any sort of explanation that might otherwise pacify her curiosity with the situation because D'Artagnan had ordered that she not be told anything. And while Porthos knew in his heart that she deserved to know the truth, even he could not deny that to tell her of what was happening beyond the walls of the palace might prompt the young woman to place herself in harm's way before she was capable of dealing with it on her own.

"You need to understand," he began, turning himself so that he could address her head on. "That everyone is only trying to keep you safe. They do not fully understand what is going on right now, and so to tell you would not make any sense."

"How many times must we go over this?" she asked hotly, turning her head to look at Porthos with evident anger in her eyes. "I am no longer a child, and I not appreciate being treated as such."

Porthos scratched his head, inhaling slowly. He knew that continuing down this path would get her worked up, thus expending far more energy than she needed to. But he was at a loss of how to distract her from the storm he could feel approaching, knowing that once Katherine had firmly set her mind to something it was rather difficult to change it. He had more than his fair share of experience in dealing with Katherine's moods, and he knew how turbulent they could sometimes be when she felt as if she were being manipulated.

He didn't know what else to say. "I need for you to trust me," he said slowly, reaching out to take her smaller hand in his own. "I know it does not make sense right now-"

"Then why not just tell me and save us both the time?" she asked, cutting him off entirely. "Whatever the truth is, Uncle, I can handle it."

Nothing like being between a rock and a hard place, he thought bitterly to himself. What was he supposed to do now, tell her what he knew and hope that his friends would forgive him for making her worry? Or did he obey orders and continue to say nothing, knowing that Katherine may still attempt to do something without full knowledge of the situation? These were the moments that Porthos did his best to avoid, letting Aramis and D'Artagnan take the more paternal roles in Katherine's life so that he could enjoy being the fun-loving Uncle who was far more open to the possibilities of life than her other guardians were. He hated having these serious moments with her…they were so unlike him…

The two sat in silence for a moment, inhaling the sweet scent of the gardens into their lungs as the sky began to show signs of the approaching sunset. And as the tension mounted between them Porthos found himself longing for the simpler days that lay far behind them, back when they had all been in semi-retirement and sharing in the joys of raising the young girl who had been abandoned on the monastery steps. Athos had had Raoul, D'Artagnan had his work and Porthos…well, he had had not a care in the world; only time to love as many women as he could and spoil a tiny child when her father's back was turned. Yes, those days have been far simpler for them all.

"I am glad to see some of the colour has returned to your cheeks."

Porthos parted his lips to speak, but found that the voice that spoke did not belong to him at all. His head turned sharply to see who it was that approached them without his knowledge before he allowed himself to relax, noting that it was only Philippe who happened upon them. A quick glance further down the path assured him that there were others present and that the young King had not wandered away unattended, though he wasn't entirely certain of what to think when he saw D'Artagnan standing with the Queen instead of another musketeer. The questions began to form in his mind, but they were questions that he would bite back until later on. Now was not the correct time to raise his eyebrow at the coupling he saw.

But he took immediate note of how Katherine's face seemed to light up at seeing Philippe before her, how her body instant leaned toward him and her lips drew back into a radiant smile. The bright blue of her eyes seemed almost to sparkle in the fading light of dusk as she absorbed his form into memory, sitting a little straighter in her seat than she had before. How had he missed this? The evidence of his age once more sat before his eyes, but this time Porthos didn't seem to mind the reminder that he had dreaded so many times in the past. If anything, it made him just a little proud. And Philippe…it was plainly written in the boy's face as well.

"Good evening, your Majesty," greeted the musketeer as he rose to his feet and bowed low at the waist.

Philippe's head nodded to him. "I am sorry to interrupt, but would you mind if I spoke with Katherine for a moment?"

He turned back to look at Katherine only once to see that her expression had not changed before he turned back to Philippe and bowed once more, making his way toward D'Artagnan and Queen Anne so as to give the younger pair some privacy. The nature of their conversation was sure to be personal, and while he was curious to know just what lay between the King and his young niece, Porthos would not dare to invade their lives like that. He would much rather enjoy the view from the sidelines, especially if it meant that there were stunned faces from his friends to be seen later on. And for now, with all of the added security measures that had been put in place, he was content to give them their space.

As Porthos left them, Philippe slowly made his way toward Katherine until he stood before her, gazing down with the softest expression she had ever before seen on his face. Only her father had ever looked upon her with that kind of tenderness, but never had it been like this. The looks that came from her father had never made her heart flutter so lightly that she felt it might fly right out of her chest. They had never caused her hand to tremble so much that she feared he might see them and think her a fool. And yet all it took was a single glance from Philippe and the smallest hint of a smile for Katherine to feel those effects course through her body and take full control. Any composure she might have had before his arrival almost completely disappeared now.

"You really do look better," he told her gently.

"I am beginning to feel a little better," Katherine responded, twisting her fingers together in her lap a little so that Philippe might not see their shaking. "I cannot yet stand on my own, but my strength has returned a little."

Philippe turned his head slightly, nodding toward the trio in the distance. "Is that why Porthos is with you?"

Katherine turned her eyes to look at the figures he indicated, only just taking notice of who it was that stood with Porthos. Why hadn't she noticed that the Queen was standing with D'Artagnan? "Yes," she told him quickly in the midst of her distraction. But then she gave her head a small shake when she realized that she was staring and turned her attention back to Philippe. "Yes. Papa is rather insistent that someone be with me at all times."

The boy king laughed softly. "I understand what you mean."

Her eyes turned upward at him in that instant, remembering the conversation she had previously been having with Porthos before she had allowed her anger to bring her into a cold silence. A hand shot out to touch part of the bench beside her as a silent motion for Philippe to sit, but the shock of the cold shot up her arm with such force that Katherine was forced to pull it back just as quickly, which earned herself a look of concern from Philippe. He had seated himself on the bench and placed a hand against her upper arm, the other hand hovering only inches above her knee as if he had caught himself in the nick of time. Seeing his worry, Katherine gave him an apologetic smile.

"Sorry," she murmured.

But Philippe was not so easily pacified. "Are you alright? Should I ask Porthos to take you back upstairs?"

She shook her head. "It was nothing. Just the shock of the cold, nothing more."

Before she realized what she was doing, Katherine had reached out to Philippe and gently laid a hand against his cheek, her eyes scanning his face to try and put him at ease. In that moment the breath seemed to catch in his throat as he registered the gentle touch of his hand upon his face, feeling the warmth that seemed to rush into his face despite the coolness of her skin. The barrier of King and commoner was broken between them. His own hand trembled slightly as he lifted it, gently covering her hand so that he might press it a little more firmly to his face and wrap his fingers around her palm. And when her face betrayed her fear of what she had done, it was his hand that kept her from pulling away from him completely.

"Please," he begged her softly, bringing her hand down to hold against his heart. "I just got you back. Do not think to leave me so soon."

The look that he gave her made Katherine's chest squeeze tightly around her heart, making it almost difficult to breathe. "Do you already forget that you are King?" she asked, her voice a whisper that only he could hear. "I am the daughter of a priest who is ignorant in the ways of the court, who speaks out of turn and puts herself in harm's way to protect those she most cares for. You should want a Princess who is refined and able to hold her tongue."

"Don't you understand?" he insisted, laughing softly. "Katherine, all of those things you list as flaws are only some of the reasons that I feel the way I do. When I thought that we might lose you, I was in agony. After what you had done for me to save my life there was nothing that I was able to do for you except sit and wait, hoping for the best."

"And when you were returned to us, I took it as a sign. I could not ignore how my heart ached for you any longer…I had to tell you the truth."

Through his whole speech Katherine had been staring up at Philippe with wide eyes, unable to comprehend that she was in fact hearing these words escape his lips. Without truly saying it she knew what he meant, her heart beating furiously as she struggled to decide how she felt about his confession. On the one hand she was thrilled because she knew that she felt the same way against her better judgement. On the other, she was terrified to know that his status played a huge role of what would happen between them, and considering the fact that she was no one of importance in the social hierarchy of life there could only be disappointment and heartbreak in the near future for them both. After all, would he not be expected to make a political alliance with his marriage that would secure an ally for France in the event of war? His own mother had been brought from Austria to marry a man she had never met and perform the duties that were expected of a wife while on display for the whole world to see. Was that something that she wanted for herself?

And yet the way that Philippe continued to gaze upon her with his enchanting smile only made her feel as if she could melt in his arms. He had shown her nothing but kindness in the days since she had come to live in the palace as his guest, his affections only growing for a young woman who clearly did not behave as such. She was brash, stubborn, hot-headed…all of the things that a woman should not be. And she had a mind of her own, which only increased the strikes that were already against her. But he loved her. Despite all of her flaws and the numerous other reasons that she should be disdainful toward her, he loved her.

Katherine was overcome, feeling her hand begin to tremble slightly as he held it firmly against his chest and continued to gaze into her eyes. What words could she give to a man like him? While her own heart yearned to give him the positive answer that would bring them both happiness, a voice in the back of her head quickly put a stop to her plans. Something, she didn't know what, was nagging for her to say nothing to him at all. But she couldn't do that to him; she wouldn't do that to Philippe.

"You and I come from two different worlds," she murmured gently to him, softening her gaze so that she might also lessen the blow she was sure to deal him. "Please understand that. I do not expect it to change how you feel, but know that it does have some bearing on us."

The smile in his face slowly began to melt away as the reality of her words struck him. He slowly pulled himself back, letting her hands fall away from his grasp as the hurt began to rise in his eyes. It felt as if the world had come to a complete stand still, for every moment between them felt extended and more painful than she had ever dreamed it could feel. Katherine parted her lips to speak, hoping to perhaps say something that might stop him from looking down at her with such a broken expression that risked crushing her heart. But he beat her to it.

"I see. Then I should bid you good night, mademoiselle."

"Philippe, I-"

But he was already gone, having bowed shortly to her before he resumed his earlier stance and walked away with both arms stiffly held behind his back. He gave her no further chance to speak and explain what she meant by her words, and calling out to him would only draw unwanted attention from her uncles and the queen. All she could do was press her lips tightly together and turn her body away so that she was no longer looking off after him, fingers bunched tightly around the material of her dress to keep them still. As she blinked she could feel the beginnings of tears prick at the corners of her eyes and start to blur her vision. Her heart squeezed tightly again and she felt the air escape from her lungs so quickly that her head began to spin in shock.

She tried to inhale slowly and re-center herself, gently laying a hand against the cold stone of the bench so that she might have something to lean onto. But as she reached to touch the bench itself she felt something else slip beneath her hand, a smoother texture that was clearly not the rough stone surface on which she sat. Katherine turned her eyes to look down beside her and gasped softly as she recognized an envelope, her name clearly written on the surface in a hand that was unfamiliar to her eyes. It hadn't been there when Philippe had sat beside her, but not a single soul had approached her since that time. So where had it come from? She turned her head to look around and saw no one else, not even a patrolling musketeer who might have happened by and slipped the letter to her in the midst of her distress.

Very slowly did she pick it up and turn it over, pulling the single slip of paper from the inside of the envelope to read the message that had been left for her.

Katherine,

You must know by now that there is danger around the palace. I beg of you to leave now before things grow worse, for I can no longer guarantee your safety here. Rumours are flying now that might damage your reputation because of your contact with the King, and rebels are plotting to harm you in retaliation for the neglect of his people. Return to the monastery for your own safety, please. It is the only way that you can be sure they will not harm you.

Tolbert

As she came to the end of the letter she folded it quickly and held it in her lap, her eyes wide from the information that she attempted to process. There was no reason to doubt his word, he had been nothing but kind to her since she had arrived and her discomfort at being in such a place was made clear. He wouldn't warn her unless there was real danger for her to be concerned with, and he had told her exactly what danger lay in wait for her. If there were people who might use her against Philippe then she had done the right thing in breaking his heart like that. Putting distance between them would only remove her from the equation and prevent her from being used against him, something that would destroy her completely if it ever were to happen. No, this was how things had to be. It had to happen this way.

"Uncle!"

Porthos came running the instant she called out to him, but she could see that D'Artagnan instantly responded as well and made as if to step toward her before Anne had stopped him with a gentle touch to his arm.

Philippe didn't even turn to look at her.

Her chest heaved with shock when Porthos came to a halt beside her, his eyes consumed by concern. "Kate? What's the matter? Are you alright?"

The brunette shook her head, reaching out to him with the hand that was not clenching the letter tightly into her body. "No…no, I-I need to return to my room."

She could tell that he wanted to question her, but the combination of her pale complexion and her violent tremors worried him too much to question her right then. Instead he scooped her up into his strong arms once again and held her even tighter than he had before, hurrying away from the small crowd at the other end and back into the palace itself. Even there against the warmth of his body she continued to shake and cling to him with a wide eyed expression of horror. He did not know what it was that had set her off like that, what had caused such a sudden change after she had been so happy and healthy earlier on. But he knew that it had started after Philippe had had a chance to speak to her.

Well, Porthos would make a note to speak to the young King later on.

"Hush, dear one," he whispered soothingly to her as he climbed the stairs and turned down the final corridor. "I am here. Nothing shall harm you."

Katherine said nothing, only closed her eyes tight and hid her face against her Uncle's shoulder. She couldn't tell him, there was no point in doing so for it would only cause them to worry further about the security measures being taken around the palace. There was only one thing that Kate could do now, and that was leave before anything bad happened. There would be a fight on her hands eventually, she knew that. As soon as her father learned that she wanted to return to the monastery he would question her motives, and after being in the gardens with them that night she was sure that Porthos and D'Artagnan would have their questions as well. All she could do was formulate a lie in her head and pray that she would eventually be forgiven for telling it to deceive them.

And with any luck, they would buy it.