Well friends, this is it. As a belated Christmas present to you all, I present the final chapter of this story. I've had an absolutely wonderful time writing it (save for the ocassional bout of writer's block) and I'm really glad that there are people out there who have enjoyed this story. It breaks my heart a little to be finished with it, but I don't want to continue rambling on and on without any real substance. That being said, I've decided that I cannot part ways with these characters just yet. Though I'm not entirely sure what I want to do with them next, it is my intention to continue writing about Katherine, Philippe and the others in some way. Relationships after this story? Katherine's early years growing up with Aramis in the monastery? Who knows? I'm sure there will be some questions about what happens beyond the end of this story, and I'm more than happy to answer whatever I can.

That being said, I'd like to let you all know that I have now come up with a slightly useful way of using my profile page. As I continue to write stories (whether they be for this fandom or others), I will use the profile page of my account to keep you up to date with what I'm writing, how long it's taking me and what I hope to achieve. If there is anyone out there who wishes to read future stories of mine, that is where I will be writing down many of the ideas that are rolling about in my head and potentially pointing some people in the direction of other authors and stories that I've come to enjoy. Maybe some of them will even be of interest to you. So, without further ado, I present the final chapter of All for One, and One for Love. Leave me a review when you're finished reading with your thoughts and questions! 3 Thank you so much for reading!

Chapter XXXV

"This way, hurry!"

There had been no time for them to argue, but neither D'Artagnan nor Athos was thrilled at the prospect of leaving Aramis alone to deal with Tolbert and save Katherine. Were Porthos still with them, one of their number would have stayed and put the odds in their favour…but Louis still had Philippe, and he had to have priority over anyone and anything else no matter how much it hurt them to walk away.

Granted, there had been no window to argue with Aramis about his decision either.

Both were aware of the battle that continued to rage outside as they heard the roars of men and the violent clash of swords, knowing that it was only a matter of time before the fight was brought indoors and those who fought for Louis were subdued. The chateau was no longer the impregnable fortress that the young man had sought in order to accomplish his plans now that the musketeers had laid siege to it, and that put them in a rather dangerous position. Unless Louis had an escape plan that they had not yet considered, he risked being caught in a corner with no place to run. This new reality would only increase the danger Philippe was in, for if his plans failed entirely, neither man doubted that Philippe would not be left alive.

Deeper and deeper into the chateau they went, searching each corridor as they passed in their efforts to figure out where it was that Louis had taken Philippe. The telling of Katherine's eyes had indicated that they needed to proceed upward if they were to find their prey, but thus far they had not managed to locate the staircase that would surely take them to the upper floors and thus closer to Louis.

Athos growled in frustration as they looked down yet another passage, finding it to be as deserted as the previous ones. "We have no time for this!"

Though he said nothing in response, D'Artagnan found himself agreeing with the sentiments expressed by his friend in his moment of anger. No amount of careful planning could have prepared for them for the events that had occurred since that night at the Bastille. And even if they had been fortunate enough to devise a clever plan in which to save Katherine's life from the hands of one who sought to use her against them, there was nothing that could be done once they discovered that Philippe had slipped through their defenses and dashed off to surrender himself to his vindictive twin. All he had wanted to do was save Katherine, to see her life spared because the boy had fallen hopelessly in love with the girl. And now it was his own life that hung in the balance.

"There has to be something," D'Artagnan argued, his own brow furrowing in frustration.

And there was; a rather unfortunate something. As the pair finally came to the end of the corridor they discovered that they found far more than the staircase they required – there were two. Each staircase lead off in a separate direction of the chateau with no guarantee that it would bring them closer to their ultimate goal. For a moment the pair were stunned, knowing that luck had not yet chosen to operate in their favour as they looked back and forth between the two sets of steps. They would have to split up, there was no choice.

They exchanged no words when they looked back at one another and nodded in unison, allowing the blades of their swords to clang loudly together before they split off and each sped for the stairwell that was closest to them. The dangers grew with every passing minute, especially now that they had dropped in number and had to venture onward without another soul who might provide them aid. If ever there was a time when they felt the cold prickle of fear begin to move its way up their spines, it was certainly now.

Off to the right did Athos vanish, leaving D'Artagnan to make his way up the left staircase and into the belly of the unknown without a friend by his side. Already his nerves were jumping wildly within his stomach as he mounted the steps one at a time, careful to keep his movements light in case he should warn anyone above him of his arrival. But time was of the essence at this point. And so the struggle between rushing and maintaining an element of surprise continued in his mind as he moved up the staircase and into the unknown. All he could do now was pray that Louis had not yet harmed Philippe, giving him the time that he needed in order to find both of his sons and keep them from harm.

At the top of the steps there was a corridor, leading him off to one part of the chateau and away from the sounds of the battle that still continued below. Through the open window he could hear the roar of men, though his senses paid little attention to it as he journeyed forward. He was consumed with his need to find the boys, to stop anything from happening that he could not reverse. If Louis were to kill Philippe there was nothing that D'Artagnan could then do to spare his friends or the people of France from the tyrannous reign that Louis would once again inflict upon the nation. Nor did he think he could ever face Katherine again, knowing that her feelings for the boy had grown into the very same one that he had secretly felt for years about Anne. Though if they failed in their mission, none of them would likely be around to mourn the loss for long. Louis would see to that.

All at once there was a blur before his eyes and D'Artagnan found himself face to face with two armed men who pointed pistols in his direction, the tiny streams of smoke telling him that they had been lit in preparation to fire. With his sword in hand the musketeer crouched and prepared to be fired upon, knowing that there was absolutely nowhere for him to disappear within the corridor. He was trapped, and all he could do now was hope that the men who held onto those pistols were lousy shots.

"Well, look who we have here," sneered the first man as he took a slow step toward D'Artagnan. "You just saved us the trouble of having to come and find you."

The second man nodded in agreement. "Yeah! The King wants a word with you."

Terror slowly began to filter into D'Artagnan as he stood in the open corridor, completely unprotected from the blow that the words had dealt him. They weren't talking about Philippe, he wasn't so foolish as to believe that. But the very thought of suddenly being confronted with a summons from the very man he was searching for was something that he was entirely unprepared to deal with. Yet there was an opportunity here, staring him straight in the face and daring him to take it before it slipped away. Perhaps this was the very chance that he needed to find Philippe.

"He does, does he?"

Warily, D'Artagnan looked between the pair and the pistols still trained on his body. No, there was no way he could take out the one and force the other to take him to Louis. The chances of being shot to death were too great even for the captain of the musketeers to avoid. And with no available rooms into which he could escape from any shots that were fired, he knew he had but one choice. Very slowly, D'Artagnan turned his wrist and allowed himself to gently lower his sword until it was out of his hands completely. There was nothing else to do but surrender for the time being.

Clearly pleased with themselves for subduing the captain of the musketeers with such ease, the two men grinned to themselves and motioned for D'Artagnan to step forward until they were able to press the muzzles of their guns against his back and force him forward through the corridor. Not a word was spoken as they lead him forward and through a few of the little corridors that strayed from the main one, but his eyes were forever glancing about him in an effort to find something that might prove useful to him later, especially now that he had been relieved of his weapon. And when the time came for him to make his escape with Philippe he would need to know the way out of that hellish place and back to safety once more. It was all he could do at the moment.

All too soon he was pushed roughly through an open door and into a smaller room, stumbling slightly at the sharp impact against his shoulder that send a dark hiss through his lips as contact was made with his still healing wound. But the instant D'Artagnan lifted his head his eyes widened and any anger felt toward his captors was forgotten – for before him stood Louis, dressed once more in the fine cloth that he had previously worn as France's monarch.

And in his hand was the dagger that he tightly pressed against the flesh of Philippe's throat.

"Go, locate the others," Louis ordered the men who stood behind D'Artagnan with his vicious sneer. "I have something I wish to discuss with my Captain."

Only in the back of his mind did he hear the retreating footsteps of the men who had taken him in the halls as they moved to do their master's bidding, for D'Artagnan was far too stunned at seeing the malicious way in which Louis threatened his brother to respond. Blinking a few times, the older man slowly lifted his hands to show that he was no threat and took a cautious step further into the room. But a twitch in Louis' hand brought him to a grinding halt when he realized that the closer he got, the closer the dagger would come to cutting through the flesh of Philippe's throat.

"Louis, listen to me-"

"Oh no, D'Artagnan," laughed the young man as his eyes narrowed dangerously. "This time you will not interrupt me. You will do exactly as you are told or you will be responsible for the death of this imposter."

The look of terror that overtook D'Artagnan's face brought forth a dark laugh that rung throughout the room, bouncing along the hard stone walls until it overtook every other sound that fought to be heard from the battle still raging below them. It was perhaps the coldest thing that the captain had ever heard in his life, for even as he stood there he fought off the chill that otherwise threatened to run its course up his spine.

"You really think it's that simple?" Louis demanded, almost laughing at the expression the older man wore. "That you can walk in here, demand to have this traitor released and then go back to the lies that you created so that he could sit in my place? You really think I will not see you executed for treason?"

D'Artagnan could say nothing. There was no concern for his own life – he had given that up to his King and country the day that he had first put on the tunic of a musketeer and sworn his oath before a crowd of his brethren. No, it was not his life that he currently feared for, but the life of the son who now stood silently opposite him with his arms hanging limply by his sides and a dagger dangerously pressed against his throat. But wait…his arms were free from bonds, so why did he stand so motionless? Why was he not fighting back against the cold metal that threatened to bite into his skin at any moment and bring a swift end to his life?

Unfazed by the silence he received, Louis continued. "You might perhaps have succeeded in locking me away forever you know, had you not gotten sloppy and left one of your own men in the Bastille with me."

For a moment D'Artagnan stood there, a puzzled expression overtaking his features as he tried to understand what was being spoken. To his knowledge there had been no man left with Louis after the switch had taken place, nor would the order have come from him as he was barely able to breathe by the end of the night. But then it dawned on him. There had indeed been a musketeer left in the Bastille, for Louis had ordered the man to remain in the cell with Philippe himself to ensure that he did not escape from his prison a second time….

"Tolbert."

The sneer only widened on Louis' face. "Yes, Tolbert," he snapped. "When his brother failed to return from the Bastille with the others that night he went looking for him, finding him where you had left him. And when he was released he told Tolbert everything."

"It was Tolbert who helped you escape," D'Artagnan murmured.

"He hid me away, keeping me safe while he acted as my spy and learned all of the things that were going on in the palace," pressed the younger man, the rage slowly beginning to sink into his words like venom. "Imagine my surprise when I heard that there was a girl walking around the corridors of my palace, taking care of an old man who should have had enough sense to die when I stabbed him in the back."

As the anger continued to build in his monologue D'Artagnan could see Philippe wince a little more at the pressure he felt against his throat from the tip of the dagger. It took all of his self-control not to leap forward and attempt to wrestle the weapon from Louis's grip and call for Philippe to flee to some place safe. But there was no way for the musketeer to guarantee his safety, not in their current position. The odds were certainly not in his favour at this moment in time, and there was nothing that D'Artagnan could think of doing that would not put Philippe in further danger. And the very idea of having to hurt Louis made his stomach churn.

But time was not on his side either, D'Artagnan realized as he searched every corner of his mind for a possible solution to the problem at hand. If he continued to wait like this and pray for some sort of miracle he knew that he was only further endangering both his life and that of Philippe. There was no telling what had happened to the rest of his friends when they had departed the group, no word that might tell him that Katherine was alright. All he had to rely on were his own skills and any assets he could find in that room.

"There is more to that girl than you realize, Louis."

At this, his snarl only deepened. "You think I do not know that? You think I do not know who she really is?"

"No," D'Artagnan said firmly. "You have no idea."

"UNCLE!"

The sound of Katherine's voice echoed through the room as she came rushing in through a secondary door he had not noticed before within the wall to his left side, a voice that was quickly followed by her presence as she hurried forward and came to a sharp halt just over the threshold. Aramis was quick on her heels, moving himself slowly so that he filled part of the gap that lay between his daughter and his friend without getting too close to Louis. A glance in their direction told D'Artagnan that neither one was in good shape anymore, for he could see the bloody proof of their battle upon their skin and clothing. But when Aramis caught his eye, he gave a short nod in response.

Tolbert had been dealt with.

"Philippe!"

"Katherine!"

The captive prince made as if to move toward her, a look of relief flooding his face until he felt the hard press of the dagger against his skin again and was forced to stop his movements. But his eyes were on her the entire time as she stood there, frantically looking between the men in the room with her so that she might better understand what had happened in her absence. There was no time to speak, however. As soon as he had stilled Philippe from his attempting approach he pulled the two of them slightly backwards once more to put more of a distance between himself and his enemies.

"Well, well," he said, attempting to regain his regal air. "It seems our darling sister decided to rejoin us after all, Philippe."

"What is he talking about?" she demanded, eyes shifting from Louis to her father and uncle.

"Katherine-"

"Have they not told you?" Louis interrupted, feigning surprise as the wicked grin again touched his face. "Have they not told you that you are nothing more than a bastard child? How your mother somehow worked her way into the bed of my father and fell pregnant with you?"

Katherine stared at him, shaking her head slowly. "You lie."

"Do I?" he hissed. "Do I truly?"

For a moment she continued to stare at Louis, her chest heaving slightly with each short intake of air that seemed only to touch her lungs for a moment before it was expelled again. Desperate for an answer, her head snapped around to D'Artagnan and Aramis, eyes pleading with them for a straight answer that might finally lead to a truth she had wondered about all her life. It couldn't be true though, could it?

"Papa…Uncle…please…"

A heavy sigh fell from D'Artagnan's lips as he shook his dark head and allowed his gaze to meet Katherine's. "Your mother worked in the palace. That is true. But she was a pawn used by the old cardinal to discredit your father in the eyes of his people…and you were the result of that use."

"The old King was your father, Katherine," Aramis finished, sensing that those were not the words that she had anticipated to hear. "No other man but him."

So it was not D'Artagnan, she thought. And that meant that Louis still had no idea of his true paternity, which explained why it was that he had been referring to her as his sister since the moment he had had her kidnapped. Which only made him more dangerous if ever he were to learn the truth. There was no telling what he might do in his fit of rage, nor did she wish to test him while he had Philippe in his grasp. And the Queen…if Louis were to somehow come out victorious at the end of all this Katherine shuddered to think of what he might do to his own mother for her past actions. But there was D'Artagnan as well. No way would he be spared from this if Louis had his way. He would want anyone who might speak the truth of his parentage dead so that they could not spread any rumour against his legitimacy and therefore his claim to the throne.

He'd kill them all.

In an effort not to panic, Katherine slowly pulled her eyes away from her family and back toward the captor who continued to stare at her with satisfaction, as if his news would be enough to strike some kind of fatal blow within her. Her mind whirled madly for some idea of what she could do, some way in which she could help Philippe before his brother lost patience and decided to slit his throat with the edge of the weapon still clenched tightly in his fist. There was but one idea that came to mind, and she knew that it might very well be the last thing that she ever did. She had no choice. She had to try.

"Let him go, Louis," she begged quietly.

"Never," he hissed back at her. "After everything he has done, he will pay for his treachery."

Katherine quickly shook her head, lowering her body to place the dagger that she had taken from her altercation with Tolbert on the floor so that she could raise both of her hands in surrender. And with cautious steps did she slowly inch herself forward, watching for the flinch in Louis's body that pulled both him and Philippe further back. She had to get his attention, and she had to do it now.

Aramis looked at her with questioning eyes. "Kate-"

"It was never him," she insisted, inching forward just a little. "We forced him into it, bullied him until he knew that he had no choice. All he ever wanted was to live a quiet life in the country with a farm girl to keep him happy for the rest of his life, tending to lambs and harvesting food."

It seemed that her words were slowly luring his thoughts away from his currently position as she continued to paint the picture for him, watching his grip on the dagger loosen just enough to bring the pressure away from Philippe's throat. Another inch she dared to move, careful not to let her gaze wander away lest she break the connection that had formed between them. She had only one shot at making this word, and a single misstep would be all it took to ruin her entire plan. If she didn't get Philippe out of this alive she would never be able to forgive herself.

"Katherine!"

She ignored D'Artagnan's call. "Have you already forgotten who it was that threatened you that night at the Bastille?" she asked him mockingly, a smile touching at the corners of her lips. "Or who it was that kept your men from getting to Philippe as you ordered? I killed one of them, remember? I mocked you from the other end of the corridor because I proved to you that you could not defeat me…a mere woman."

Now the fires were beginning to burn in his eyes and she knew that she had him cornered.

"Be honest now, Louis, who is it you really want dead? Some silly brother who only looks like you, or the one person who made sure that you went away like the dog you are?"

The muscles in his jaw began to clench, teeth grinding as he struggled not to fall for the bait that she laid out for him. His ego was already damaged, and each spoken word was another sword that she drove through it in an effort to see the entire thing destroyed. It was almost too easy, she thought to herself, and that made it a lot more dangerous and unpredictable than she might have liked. But there was no turning back now. She had gone too far.

She widened her grin a little as the distance between them closed. "Come on," she taunted softly. "You want your revenge? Here I am. Prove that you actually have the stomach to do your own dirty work."

He glared down at her, watching as she straightened her body and threw her arms out to the sides in an open invitation for where he should place the dagger in his hand. "Do it. Kill me."

"Katherine, no!"

"What are you doing?!"

"KILL ME!"

With a roar that threatened to shake the entire chateau Louis flung Philippe aside and raised the dagger above his head, aiming to bring it straight down into Katherine's heart. All at once it seemed as if time were slowing down around them and moving at almost half the speed as normal. Her ears could hear the war cry that Louis gave, as well as the shouts that came from the three other people who stood in the room with her as each one called out to try and stop Louis from striking. But he would not be deterred and Katherine could see the blade coming with more force than she thought lived in her enemy's entire body. So when she reached upward to stop him she grabbed his wrist in both of her hands and pushed upward with all her might.

She could hear the others scrambling to reach her in time, but none of them were able to snatch her out of the way as she struggled back and forth with Louis, holding tightly to him as the point of his dagger slowly rose and fell mere inches from her face. And just when it looked like she might be able to push him away and escape his grasp, Louis lifted his knee sharply and caught her in the stomach. The shock and hurt of the unexpected impact was all it took for her grip to fall away from his arm and give him the opportunity he needed to get ahold of her for good. His free hand found her head and instantly grabbed a fistful of her dark locks while the other hand brought the dagger to her throat, preparing to finish the job he had started.

A glance to the side betrayed their location against the wall, dangerously close to the single window within the room. Time had finally run out. This was going to be her last stand.

For a split second she allowed her blue eyes to turn to Philippe and connect with him before Katherine summoned the remainder of her strength for her final assault. Slamming a heel down upon his toes Louis howled in pain and pulled himself backward until his back came into contact with the ledge of the window. And when Katherine threw her elbow backward to mimic the same pain that he had previously inflicted on her, his body retracted even further. But this time he moved too far and Louis could no longer retain his balance. With Katherine still in his grasp he tumbled out the open window with one final cry and disappeared from sight.

"NOOOOOOO!"

Philippe pushed forward until he was at the other end of the room and gripping tightly to the edge of the window, looking down to where the pair had fallen. Tears already began to stain his cheeks as he leaned forward, praying to God that there would be some miracle waiting for him to see that would not include the mangled remains of his twin and the woman he loved laying together in the dust. The very idea of losing Katherine now was enough to shatter his heart beyond repair.

"Katherine!"

Now joined at the window by D'Artagnan and Aramis, Philippe looked around madly at the ground beneath him. His heart felt heavy within his chest, his throat closing as he struggled to breathe properly and slid down against the window sill until he came to rest on the cold floor once more. And there, he let out the most heart wrenching cry that D'Artagnan had ever heard in his life. Too stunned to do anything else, the captain of the musketeers leaned heavily against the wall and stared down at the ground beneath his feet. For the first time in years he could feel the prick of tears in his eyes as his stomach plummeted and his body began to tremble. He had lost them, both Louis and Katherine, all in one blow. The son who had never known him and the daughter he had loved dearer than anything….gone….

"Aramis! D'Artagnan!"

The voice meant very little to either Philippe or D'Artagnan, but from his place at the window Aramis instantly caught sight of the person who waved at him from the window a few stories below and straighted his back, suddenly able to focus on everything in the world once more.

"Oh my God!"

Without another word he bolted from the room with a speed that D'Artagnan had not known him to possess in a great many years. Instantly concerned for what Aramis might do in his grief over losing his child, D'Artagnan felt himself connect with the wold again and moved to pursue him, calling to him as he ran out of the room and down the corridor to a set of stairs he had not seen before. Twice more he called him as he chased his friend through the bowels of the chateau, hoping he might still have the strength to catch up to him and prevent any further lives from being lost. He couldn't be so foolish, D'Artagnan thought to himself. Katherine would never forgive Aramis for doing something like that….he was a priest…he knew the laws of the church better than anyone else!

But as D'Artagnan rounded the corner into a room that lay several stories beneath the other, the sight inside caused the older man to stop sharply in the doorway and stare. For there, newly wrapped in her father's tight embrace, was Katherine.

In that instant she lifted her gaze and saw him standing there, her own tears falling just as freely as the ones that now decorated his cheeks. Another moment more she spent in her father's arms before he released her enough that she might step toward D'Artagnan, but he wasted no time in crossing the room and bringing her close to his chest so that he might know how real she truly was. Not an apparition or any dream he might have prayed for…but a real human being, flesh and blood that he could wrap his arms around and feel with the tips of his fingers. Lifting one quivering hand he placed it against the soft strands of her hair, sighing heavily with relief.

"You're alive."

"Uncle Porthos," she choked, struggling to fight back the fear that was obviously still within in her from the experience. "He heard the commotion upstairs and stuck his head out the window to try and figure out where we were. He….he caught me…"

His arms tightened a little around her, understanding the double meaning that her words contained. While Porthos had been fortunate enough to be there when the two of them fell from the window, there had been only one who had been pulled to safety. Louis had not survived.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed, a fresh wave of tears causing her voice to crack. "I'm so sorry, Uncle. I only wanted him to let Philippe go, I never meant-"

It hurt. Oh God, did it hurt. Though Katherine and Philippe had both been spared there was a part of his heart that would forever remain dead with his second son, the boy who had never known him to be anything more than the leader of the guards designed to protect him. As a captain and a father he had failed in this most sacred duty. His son was gone. The body beneath the window could only belong to Louis. And all he could do for the moment was hold tightly to Katherine as he struggled to tell his heart and soul that he hadn't lost everything today. Though he could feel the heavy pull of the rainclouds above his head there would again come a time when the sunshine would be bearable. Perhaps not now, but someday.

To soothe them both, D'Artagnan gently stroked her hair with his hand as he felt her bury her face against his chest. "I think it would have killed me more to have lost you," he whispered.

Pulling back from him just enough to look up into his face, Katherine brushed away her tears and tried to regain her composure despite the shaking he could still feel throughout her body. "Philippe? Is he-"

"He's right here, Kate."

It was Athos who spoke from the doorway and turned all of their heads, standing behind the boy who continued to stare at Katherine with a mixture of shock and something else she could not immediately name. He seemed to be trembling just as badly as she was, his eyes red from the tears he had already shed in thinking that she might have been lost to him forever. For but a moment were they motionless and staring at one another in uncertainty. But the instant that he moved toward her, so too did she move toward him until he had wrapped her in an embrace to rival the ones she had already exited.

His chest heaved as he held her tightly. "You're alive."

"Yes," she breathed.

"Why did you do it, Kate?" he asked her, a few more tears falling from his eyes as he pressed his face against her hair and breathed in her scent. "He could have killed you. He could have taken you away from me forever."

The brunette shook her head. "I could not let him hurt you," she whispered, lifting her head away from his chest so that she might gaze into the brilliant blue of his eyes. "I love you, Philippe."

The words were barely out of her mouth when suddenly Philippe pressed his lips to her own, cradling the back of her head with one of his hands as the other drew her waist closer to him. In response, Kate wound her arms around his neck and drew herself as close as she could muster, her mind having completely forgotten that there were other people in the room. All that mattered was that she had finally shared the deepest secret of her heart with the boy who made it beat so quickly, the boy she had been prepared to die for in order to protect.

At last, something was right.

Five days later they were all assembled together again on a hillside that overlooked the brilliant gardens of the palace as they said their final goodbye to Louis. Breaking the news to Anne had been something none of them wished to do, for they were all aware of the anguish it would cause her to truly lose one of her son's to an eternal sleep, but the Dowager Queen had handled the news quite well since their return. She had locked herself away in her chamber for a few days with only her most trusted maid to attend to her, but it was Katherine who went on the third day and gently knocked on the door so that she might attempt to help the healing process along. After that she had spent a great deal of time with D'Artagnan so that they might mourn the loss together as parents.

Now they stood together at the foot of his grave, his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders as she clenched a single red rose to her chest.

The final words of the parting prayer faded from Aramis' lips as he crossed himself and bowed his head for a moment of silence, closing his book to show that their private service had come to a close. There were but eight people in attendance, all of whom knew the details of what had transpired and lead to the death of the elder brother. D'Artagnan stood with Anne, who was in turn flanked by Andre and Porthos who had taken up positions of guards to ensure her safety. Aramis slowly moved from the head of the grave to where Athos stood, his expression almost unreadable as he battled his own conflicted feelings. And off to the D'Artagnan's other side were Philippe and Katherine, who stood with their fingers entwined as they sought to bring silent comfort to one another.

"Louis was always a tormented soul," Anne murmured.

"May he now find peace," responded Katherine.

With a gentle nudge from his arm D'Artagnan began to lead Anne back to the palace, Andre and Porthos following a respectful distance behind. Athos moved next to join the procession and reached out to gently touch Philippe on the shoulder as he passed. With a kiss pressed firmly to the back of her hand Philippe released Katherine's fingers and moved to walk with Athos, which left the girl to linger at the end with her father. Teeth pressed lightly to her bottom lip and eyes dropped downward as he approached her, coming to a stop with just enough distance for him to lift her head lightly in his hand until he was able to meet her eyes.

"What troubles you, my daughter?" he asked in his gruff tone.

She seemed to struggle for a moment, mouth opening and closing without a sound. "Everything," she said at last. "I brought about his death. I killed him."

In an instant Aramis had wrapped his arms around his daughter and held her tightly against his chest, resting a cheek atop her head. They had not spoken of that day since leaving the chateau behind, but the old priest had known that it was only a matter of time before the emotional pressures became too much and the guilt would overwhelm her. How could it not? When they had both toppled out the window Aramis had been sure that he would never see Katherine alive again, and yet her life had been spared. How could she not think she was responsible?

"I knew the window was close," she continued, burying her face against the soft velvet of his tunic. "I knew there was a risk that we would go over the edge. But I couldn't let him kill Philippe, Papa, I just couldn't."

"Shhh," he said gently, rocking her back and forth a little as he had once done in her childhood. "Louis had led himself down a dark and dangerous path for many years now, Kate. It was going to catch up to him eventually. And his luck finally ran out."

"But I knew," the girl insisted.

Aramis quickly cut her off. "You knew that the life of someone you loved was in danger and you did something about it. Louis might have killed Philippe if you had not intervened. And then what? He nearly killed you as well…and after that none of us would have been safe. You saved us, Katherine."

When she did not respond again, Aramis took it as a sign of acceptance and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. The truth was not always the easiest thing to bear, but he knew that given time she would come to understand what her actions had truly done for them all. Just a moment more he held her in his arms before he slowly pulled away and allowed himself to follow the others back to the palace, leaving Katherine to stand by the grave alone with her conscience. There was some comfort to be had, she supposed. If nothing else, she prayed that Louis would indeed find the peace that he had sorely been missing from his life.

"I am sorry," she whispered again.

And with that she turned and walked away.

It would not help her heal if she continued to dwell on the past. Now there was a future to look forward to, a future that held countless possibilities for her to explore. If she thought life had been interesting before, she had certainly been wrong. Now there was a whole new adventure ahead that was just waiting for her to find it…and this time the adventure would not be had alone. Of that she was quite certain.