Sorry this one took so long, everyone! I wrote it a little too quickly for my liking, so I went back and found a couple of little holes that I could patch up, which is hopefully what I was able to do. I know it's bound to make some people a little unhappy (I'm a huge fan of the cliff hanger...it keeps ya'll coming back, right?) but I'd like to think that it will also give you something to enjoy. Please leave me a little review when you finish reading! If all goes well, there should only be another two or three chapters left at the most, and I might just have an announcement about this at the end of it all. Thanks for reading everyone!

Chapter XXXIII

"Sister…"

How could be possibly have been so blind? He should have known that there would be people who were still linked to Louis, people who would have come to know the events that transpired that night when D'Artagnan pieced together their plan and cornered his friends as they attempted to escape with Louis. It was his nervousness at the ball that night, the slip ups with Christine and the woman who had fallen before him during the dance that had given him away. His men would have seen the pair standing close together when they stopped them on the river, and then again at the Bastille during his rescue. Despite the order that they would all be sworn to silence for whatever they might have heard he knew he should have been more careful with the men. But his mind had been occupied with other thoughts, caught in a never-ending spiral of fear, hope and relief as one thing after another came to happen within the palace walls.

The way that Louis spoke though, the words that he had chosen to use…Philippe quickly came to realize just how little his brother truly knew about the situation at hand. While he was standing there, seemingly confident in the power that he could hold above the head of his twin, he addressed Katherine as being the old King's bastard child, the sister that he had known about for as long as he had known about Philippe. He was blissfully ignorant of his true parentage. He still believed himself to be the son of a man who had proven himself a worthy political pawn to another man during his lifetime. He thought that Katherine was their half-sister through blood.

He didn't know.

His captors lead him through the maze of corridors and up a tight flight of stairs before they pulled aside the heavy wooden door and shoved him forward into the room, bolting it just as quickly as they had opened it. There was barely time for his body to register the hard impact of the floor beneath his knees before he fell forward and landed face down on the cold stone, feeling his hip come into contact with something hard as well. Philippe hissed in pain as he rolled to his side, eyes closed and teeth grit tightly together. With one hand he gingerly tried to rub the spot in his hip, only to wince again and remove the pressure that his fingers attempted to place on the sore area. It was the leg of a bed that he had hit, he could see it now; a large wooden frame of heavy oak that took up a large percentage of the floor space he currently occupied, looming above his head with a threatening air. Groaning to himself the young man pressed an elbow down into the floor and slowly began to push himself upward until he was in a seated position, touching his head to make sure it had not suffered any damage in the fall.

"Philippe?"

Suddenly the world seemed to put itself back together again as he turned his head quickly and looked about him, turning his body over so that he might approach as soon as he had found where the voice had come from. He would know it anywhere, for it was a sound that had come to live comfortably in his ears and seemed to be a melodious tune unto itself. It took but a moment for him to find her, curled on the floor where she had been haphazardly dropped after her captors had returned her to the room. She was still bound at the hands, though the gag had since been removed, and from seeing her Philippe could tell that she had not been kindly treated since the time of her capture. There was a fear in her eyes, a fear etched so deeply that it almost seemed to age her as she lay against the hard ground, looking over at him as if she might lose control of her emotions at any moment.

Philippe scrambled to his feet and rushed to her side, kneeling down beside her so that he might help her up into the same seated position he had taken only a moment ago. His fingers fumbled a little with the rope that had been used to tie her hands together, pulling at the knot until it fell away and tumbled to the floor between them to lay entirely forgotten as Katherine's arms wound themselves around his neck and he in turn pull her close at the waist. Every ounce of tension that she held in her body could be felt as she pressed tightly to him, burying her face into the crook of his neck as her shoulders began to shake. Philippe turned his head a little, allowing himself to feel the smooth texture of her hair against his cheek as one hand came up to cup the back of her head and hold her a little more. A sigh of relief sounded from the young man as he did. At least she was still alive. There was still hope for them yet.

After a moment he pulled back, looking at her with concern as his hand moved around from the back of her head to her temple and cheek, his eyes looking her up and down. "Are you alright?" he asked quickly, a hint of fear in his words. "Did they hurt you?"

Katherine shook her head, letting one of her own hands reach up to slip around the one he now held against her cheek, fingers pressing tightly to his palm. Then she shot back to where she had been before with her face pressed to his neck. "Louis told them not to harm me, but he does not wish for me to regain enough strength to fight him."

For a moment the two of them were left in silence, each clinging to the other as if their lives depended upon it. Philippe held her as tightly as he dared until he was able to press most of her body up against his own and feel the pounding of her heart against his chest. The fear that they shared could be felt between them as they sat there on the floor, his arms protectively wrapped around her as if they alone might shield her from the dangers that awaited them outside of that door. Neither knew what fate awaited them, but they were both more than aware of the fact that Louis would not be kind to them for the role that they had each played in helping to remove him from his throne.

"You fool," she whispered to him, causing the boy to look down at her in confusion. "What are you doing?" Katherine demanded, her voice a broken whisper as she pulled her head back just far enough to look up at him with tear stained eyes. "Louis will kill you for what has been done to him, you know that! Why are you here?"

"I could not let you go," he murmured, moving his hand to gently brush away a stray tear with his thumb. "Not at the risk of your life. You and I both know that Louis saw you at the Bastille that night." Then the young man paused, collecting himself. "I read your letter."

Her eyes dropped along with her head, coming to rest on his shoulder. Despite the voice in the back of her mind that screamed of the inappropriate way that she held onto him, Katherine refused to let go. With the road ahead filled with such uncertainty all she wanted was to feel safe, comforted. And those feelings were exactly what she got by staying in Philippe's embrace and ignoring the way that her body ached to be down on the floor as it was, twisted up so that she could curl into his arms a little more. The rest of the world seemed to momentarily melt away as he held her, a feeling that she had experienced only once before, the night that she had danced with him before the whole court. Was it so wrong to want that feeling again?

As he began to shift, Katherine felt the tension shoot into her arms and hold tightly to the loop that she had created around his neck. She looked up in surprise as he slowly adjusted the placement of his body weight and slipped his arms into a new position, one around her back with the other beneath her knees until he was able to push back to his feet with her body secured in his arms. His eyes never left her as he slowly moved toward the side of the bed and held her too him, placing her down as carefully as one might handle china or glass. And as he placed her head against the pillow, Katherine felt her breath hitch a little. That look…could it really be what she thought it was? Or was she simply imagining things?

All she could see was the brilliant blue shade of Philippe's eyes staring down at her, clouded slightly with an expression she had never before seen aimed in her direction. At first it was a little startling to see such an intensity in his gaze, and despite herself Katherine found that she held her breath.

Philippe sat himself on the edge of the bed, continuing to look down upon her. A few weeks ago he would have given almost anything for a moment like this, a moment where the truth could finally be heard through the crystal clear silence that surrounded them and in that lack of sound Katherine would come to understand absolutely everything that he felt. How he had wished for the day when he could express that to her and know that her affections were indeed the same as the ones he felt wriggling around in his stomach every time he looked at her. Did she truly understand how his heart would flutter at the mere thought of her? How the sound of her name alone was all it took to create chills that showed upon his flesh? Less than a day ago he might have said no, she didn't realize the depths of his love at all and the effect that she had on him. But now, as their eyes connected and neither body seemed willing to move, he knew that she finally understood.

Twisting himself so that he was angled in her direction, Philippe slowly began to lower his body toward Katherine's. They both knew what the intention was, it was written into the gaze that they shared as the gap between them grew smaller and smaller with the passing seconds. And neither one of them was willing to pull away, to stop the outcome before it happened. Eyes began to close as she felt the warmth of his body draw closer, anxious for the feeling that would soon overtake her being.

BOOM!

It was the sound of cannon fire that broke the two apart before they were able to connect, turning both heads toward the window and the shouts that sounded from below. Philippe leapt to his feet and bolted across the room to stand by the open window, listening as men barked orders back and forth and scurried around the interior wall of the chateau. Another boom sounded, this one closer to where they were being held, as the floor shook slightly beneath them. Katherine pushed herself up onto her elbows, curling her legs beneath her until she was able to raise herself into a seated position once again. The pair exchanged a look, one that spoke of alarm. What was happening?

"You!" came a voice from below, clearly addressing another group of men. "To the main gate! Take whatever ammunition you can find and keep them back!"

"What is it, sir?" called another.

Again, the first voice shouted above the chaos. "D'Artagnan leads his musketeers toward the chateau!"

Katherine's hand flew to her mouth in shock, her heart pounding quickly in her chest. The musketeers were on the advance, approaching the fortified chateau in the hopes of coming to rescue their King from the tyranny that held him captive. And if D'Artagnan was indeed leading his men forward in this attack, her own dear Papa was sure to be among their number, followed closely by Athos and Porthos. But Louis was ready for them, he had likely anticipated that once Philippe turned himself over to his evil grasp, there would be retaliation from those who were supportive of the place that he had come to occupy in the eyes of France. He would see to it that they were all killed.

"Philippe!"

He wasted not a moment in crossing back to her, taking ahold of her outstretched hand and quickly sitting himself back on the bed to take her into his arms once more, pressing her tightly to his chest as one hand stroked her hair. He knew better than most of the anticipation and terror that she was sure to feel, knowing that her father was once again willingly placing himself in danger. D'Artagnan was there was well, his own father, the very man who had once nearly died in order to save the life of the son he barely knew. They had seen first-hand the amount of pain that a father was willing to endure in order to spare his child. Would they be so lucky to see a positive outcome a second time?

"They will be alright," he murmured to her, swallowing his own fears as he spoke. "They will have a plan. They always do."

But this time he couldn't be sure. He had left the palace long before any such discussion could take place, which meant that Philippe was just as in the dark and vulnerable as the fragile woman he held in his arms. He blinked quickly, trying to clear his head so that he might think at least one step ahead of the brother who hated him so badly. Yet all he could think of was the danger that Katherine was in because of her blood.

Blood…

Philippe pulled back, holding onto Katherine's upper arms in both of his hands as he tried to find her gaze. "Kate," he began, his words hurried and firm enough that she immediately responded to his voice. "There is something you need to know. Louis wanted me because I am his flesh and blood and I was able to pretend that I was him. But he still thinks that he is the son of the old King. He does not know that the old King had only one child in his lifetime."

She blinked, giving her head a small shake. "I do not understand."

"He had only one child," he repeated hurriedly. "Richelieu tricked him into creating a child with one of the maids who cared for my Mother, a woman he had drugged. When she discovered what had happened, she retired to have the baby, but she lived only long to give the child to a young musketeer who promised to find her a good home. That child was left on the steps of a-"

His words were interrupted by the sound of the heavy wooden door being thrown open wide, coming to a stop only when it slammed against the stone wall on the inside of the chamber. Through the opening spilled half a dozen men who immediately stepped into the room and surrounded the bed on which Philippe and Katherine sat. The boy moved to try and protect her, twisting himself sharply so that Katherine's smaller body was placed behind his back as his eyes darted about to see which would be the first to move. Tolbert entered just behind them, his sword and dagger attached to his belt, and Louis entered just behind him in armour that bore no ceremonial decoration or engravings. With a single look toward the pair, he nodded toward his men.

"Take him."

Despite the way that she clung to him, Katherine was unable to maintain her grip on Philippe for long. Three of the men immediately jumped forward to break the two apart, all of them forced to wrestle with young man while a fourth one stepped in to force his hands roughly on Katherine's arms and yank her as far back in the opposite direction as possible. All she could do was scream as she struggled to remain free, easily overtaken by the larger man who seemed more than happy to pull her until her back was pressed firmly to his front. She wiggled as best as she could, trying to tear herself free, but to no avail. She wasn't strong enough to battle with the vice-like grip the man had on her.

"You coward!" she spat at Louis, watching as Philippe continued to thrash around between his captors. "You cannot even deal with the issue yourself! You have to send three other men to do your dirty work for you because you do not have the guts it takes to handle your own brother!"

Before she knew it, Louis had taken the two steps he needed to cross the distance between them and brought the back of his open hand across her face. Her head snapped violently in the other direction and a cry sounded from her throat at the harsh contact she felt, her ears suddenly filled with the sharp sound of his skin connecting with her own and the shout that she heard come from Philippe. Despite her efforts to remain on her feet she could feel her knees crumple beneath her, the bruising grip of the man behind her being the only thing that kept her from falling back to the floor in a heap. Her chest heaved as she struggled to breathe, the side of her face stinging more than she had ever felt before.

"I have heard enough from you," growled Louis, turning sharply on his heel to address Tolbert. "You know what to do. Take her, but do not harm her yet."

Tolbert nodded in understanding and moved deeper into the room until he was able to take control of Katherine from the other man, who exited quickly ahead of the group that continued to hold Philippe. "And the boy?" he asked.

Louis turned slowly, his eyes dark with the tell-tale signs of blood lust. "Leave my brother to me."

He removed himself from the room just as quickly as he had entered. Philippe continued his attempted escape as they dragged him through the door and down the corridor, ignoring the protest that both his body and his voice gave. As they pulled him away, he continued to scream out her name at the top of his lungs, hoping against hope that he might be able to return in order to spare her from whatever fate awaited at Tolbert's traitorous hands. But the sound of his voice only caused the pain to sink further into her body until it settled into her heart, the walls of her chest becoming so tight that the effort to breathe nearly caused the girl to lose consciousness. It was only the sheering pain of having one arm twisted behind her back that brought Katherine back to her senses, screaming like she had never screamed before in her life. It was so intense that she could see the dots dancing about before her eyes and make the room swirl dangerously, a pain that only exploded further as she tried to fight it off.

"Come now," hissed Tolbert, twisting her arm a little tighter as he took control of the other one as well. "I believe that you and I have an appointment to keep. I would hate for you to miss what we have in store for Aramis and his friends."

Most of the forward motion that she could feel was coming from his own legs, her own could barely handle the thought of moving let alone the action. But her mind was whirling again, her stomach in knots as she thought of her father being in danger. And Philippe…where had Louis taken him? She would have given anything to have been well enough to fight properly at that moment, even if it meant sacrificing her own life in the end to ensure that the others made it through this ordeal safely. She knew not where she was being taken, tears had begun to leak from the corners of her eyes and blurred the vision that she might otherwise have used to get her bearings. All she had were the sounds that echoed through the corridor from the battle outside as men struggled to keep the musketeers at bay, hiding behind the thickness of the fortress wall.

"You will lose," she whispered through her pain, even as her shoulder made contact with the hard stone wall of the staircase that she now stumbled down. "No matter how hard you fight or what you do with me, you will lose this battle, Tolbert."

But the man just grit his teeth and twisted harder, giving her another shove for good measure. "We shall see about that, my dear."