'How are the witches doing?' chanted Mademoiselle de Renard Davalle. 'I taught we were over witchcraft... like two hundred years ago.' She threw her apple in the air before biting in it, enjoying every bit of her dramatic intrusion in the Musketeers' conversation. Aramis and Porthos were cleaning their horses in the stables, using that time to make a report to Athos and D'Artagnan.

'How on earth can you be aware of this' asked D'Artagnan, perplex but amused.

'Well, you made us take a road that longened our trip for three hours. I had plenty of time to think and to gather intelligence.' Looking at the faces of the men, she knew she was on their bad side. They probably still taught that she was some sort of imposture. She rolled her eyes to the skies when no one answered her. 'Intelligence you might want to use...'

'And for what in return?' asked Athos in a harsh tone.

'For nothing... in particular.' She smiled of all her teeth, the kind of smile that would open the door to any room.

'We are not interested in your games.' Said Athos coldly.

'Oh, come on!' answered the lady. 'If anyone else would help to solve a case by bringing information of importance to you, you would call him honorable; tell him that they have your extreme gratitude. But you turn me down like I'm dirt on the alley when I have helped you before. Do I need to remind you the circumstances of our first meeting? If anyone should be holding grudges that'd be me, sir.' Exploded the lady to win their favor.

'All right, enough. We will listen to you!' said Athos eager to have her to shut up.

She squealed a little and when she realise how desperate she looked, she straightened her dress and her hair.

'I'm sorry' she said. 'It gets quite boring at court.'

'What a spoiled way to think.' Sighed Porthos.

'Excuse me, don't talk to me about being spoiled. None of you. You all could of had better conditions than yours, but threw them all away for a place amongst the Musketeers. And I don't blame you.'

'Would you go on with that intelligence of yours you gathered?' pushed D'Artagnan.

'Why so pressing? Already tired of me?' she asked kindly.

'Don't worry about them love, I will hear all you have to say' said Aramis bowing to her.

She laughed of her long and graceful laugh before being stopped by someone shouting her name.

'Crap' she said before pulling a ball out of one of her socks, unpurposely flashing the Musketeers with her pale legs. 'I will meet you tonight at the garrison. For now I am supposed to be playing cricket with the very lovely and not hunting obsessed at all Duke of Lavoie.' Before leaving, she gathered herself for a second. Afterwards, she ran to her ladies calling her, laughing and smiling as graceful as usual. Aramis definitely loved the girl. Not in the way he loved Anne, of course, but he still couldn't get the smile she left hanging off his lips away.

'Is she always like that?' asked Porthos

'I quite hope so.' Said Aramis laughing.

Later that night, Abbygaëlle de Renard Davalle put on her riding attire and went to the

Musketeers garrison like she said. She found them all sitting at a table eating the supper Serge was serving to them. The old man stayed in shock when he recognised the lady with a much finer appearance than what he was used to see of her. She had a long hood and some lacy details hiding her face making her unrecognisable from far, which probably was her goal. She sat with the men who were in a much better mood to speak than earlier. Even Athos seemed less irritated than the usual. She had questioned her servants and sent her mailing man to see what was stopping the company on their way to the castle. She learnt many things the Musketeers already knew, but she brought two new elements to the table : the ladies of the house were holding some sort of gathering. Nobody quite knew when they happened, but the house was always crowed at that time. The villagers say that it's a gathering of witches, who reunited while the moon is full to channel its power. Secondly, the youngest was to be wed to an ill man. He was known to have a fragile health and – it is said – that that was what made him attractive to the eyes of the family, that and his money. No one would suspect murder when such an ill man would come to pass away. She was about to continue when she was stopped by a horse making its way in the garrison. The thing on it seemed so young that Porthos stood to help it down the horse , fearing it might break her. Horse and hood off of her, Aramis and Porthos recognised the young girl that wouldn't want to speak when they were visiting the house on the hill.

'What's wrong little girl?' asked Porthos while sitting her down.

'Do you remember us?' asked Aramis while offering her bread.

'Yes' started the girl. Poor thing, she was so shaken. 'I was told that you help people. You help them with their injustice. Is that true?' she rose her big and humid eyes towards the men and they all could feel their hearts melt.

'We are the King's Musketeers' said D'Artagnan, encouraging. 'We can help you.'

Before she could continue to speak, tears chocked her and came down rolling on her cheeks like rain on the streets. All the men looked at each other, not sure of what attitude to take. That was typical of men, thought Abbyagaëlle, to think of how to react when a child is crying in front of them. She took the girl in her arms and slowly rocked her. She tried to lull her with the sweet and heartwarming sounds only woman could make : small hush and whispers. After a while, she swallowed her tears and faced her companions.

'You need to stop them. They want to wed me to some man twice my age that I don't even know! They want to sell me off like some merchandise!'

When she realised that everyone kept silent to her words, tears started falling from her eyes again.

'But... You said you fought against injustice! I have no one else to go to for help. I don't know what to do' her last words were buried in Abbygaëlle's shoulder. When she recomposed herself, Abbygaëlle took her chin in one hand and swiped her tears with the other.

'These gentlemen do fight injustice, but they don't fight against the world we live in. You have to wed. That's the way it is. Haven't you been told that women are nothing without husbands?'

'But I don't know him, I could never love him.' snorted the young girl.

'Who told you that you had to love your husband? You can find love elsewhere. In your children! Haven't you thought of the family of your own you will soon be able to have? Little babies all for you to spoil!'

'But it's not fair...'

'Oh honey, nothing is. This entire bloody world is unfair and it's even worse when you are born a woman. But what are you going to do about it? Whine and cry here, cursing God for having made you a woman or you are going to stand up and be proud and wed this man. You might not find love in the union, but you will find many other things. You don't believe that you would be happy spending your life hiding in your mother's skirts, now do you?'

The girl rushed her head to her sides.

'Well, with a husband, you will have things of your own. And who knows, you might even eventually love him. I know you are scared, but there's no need to. You are a strong little girl and you will take advantage of this situation, because believe me, there are plenty! You are just too young to quite understand them yet.'

The girl stayed for a little while more. Drinking every words that came out of Abbygaëlle's mouth : advices, experiences and funny stories. At some point, she looked at a small pocket watch and a small scream came out of her. She excused herself and ran off to her horse. D'Artagnan helped her on and Abbygaëlle indicated him to do the same for her.

'Where are you going?' asked Aramis.

'I will follow her! Have you seen that hurry? The only reason I can find that she would fear being late so much is that tonight is a very special night... A gathering maybe even.'

Than, she stormed off followed by the four Musketeers.