We parted ways upon reaching Paris, the men heading back to the garrison to send reinforcements to Treville to escort Belgard and Eleanor to be imprisoned and held for questioning. I was eager to return to the palace and regale the queen with my latest exploits of danger and excitement. Instructing the stableboy to have the horse returned to the garrison after it had been cared for, I pulled off my gloves as I strode towards the queen's quarters. "Where is her majesty?" I questioned aloud to no one in particular, waiting until a servant answered as she curtseyed.

"As far as I know, madame, she is in her private chambers."

"Is Constance with her?" Shaking her head, the maid was certain that Constance had left a little while ago to go to the garrison. She had noticed her, as she had taken off her black mourning gown. I halted, a bolt of ice striking my gut. "The queen is alone?"

"Yes, madame. She wished to be undisturbed for a while." Dear God…she was alone. All at once I was running. Something in the back of my mind was screaming, urging me to run faster, to grow wings and fly to Anne's side. She should not be alone. I had sworn never to leave her alone without either myself or Constance beside her. I prayed I was only being irrational, that my fears were unfounded and that I was merely overcautious, but this did not satiate the burning fear scorching my entire body.

When I approached the queen's private chambers, two red guards stood in my way. They moved to block me, but I did not slow my pace, but rather lowered my shoulders and barrelled towards them with the most menacing howl I could muster. "OUT OF MY WAY!" Bearing expressions of terror, they jolted aside and I passed through the doors, crashing into the queen's apartments without breaking pace, only continued to run. I did not stop until I had reached the final door, which I flung open to discover Anne flushed and terrified on the ground with her back against the bedframe, eyes wet with tears as they darted towards me and Rochefort looming over her, preparing to descend. "Move and you die!" It was all I could think to say, hand rushing to my dagger which I drew whilst stepping inside.

Rochefort froze, blinking at me as if slowly arising from a fevered haze. For a moment, all of us were still, the only sound Anne's rapid breaths as I watched Rochefort, blade tilted towards him. I took another step closer. "Anne, come to me. Come here, dear Anne," softening my tone as much as I was able, I held out my spare hand towards her and she scrambled to get to her feet, tripping slightly upon the hem of her skirts so she all but fell into my embrace. I held her as she cried quietly into me, so I pressed a kiss to her brow and hushed her. "It's alright, I will protect you."

"Protect her?" Rochefort repeated, blinking with that same, fevered expression which seemed to me like he were only a few threads away from losing his sanity completely. He laughed menacingly and Anne trembled in my arms. "Protect her from me, you mean? I would never hurt her…if only she would…love me." These last words expelled in a hiss, chilling even me to the bone as I continued to hold Anne, squeezing her against me whilst keeping my dagger in a tight grip. "Giver her back…she is mine…she belongs to me!"

"Never!" All at once Rochefort sprang for us, wild eyed and ravenous like a beast succumbing to its basest instincts. Anne screamed. Without thinking I thrust her behind me as Constance appeared, catching Anne as she fell whilst I bore the brunt of Rochefort's attack. He aimed to grasp at Anne, reaching over me but I held my ground and became an unmovable barrier which kept him from reaching her. Some part of him must have retained intelligent thought, however, as he had grasped my wrist which held the dagger and kept me from using it, snarling as we all fell into a mad scramble of contorting limbs.

The dagger fell from my grasp, Rochefort's fingers burrowing into my wrist until I felt the bone shift at his grip, my shoulder bearing the brunt of his weight as I struggled to hold him back and desperately seeking another weapon. I had not the room to draw my sword, and I feared he would only take it from me. Instead, my hands delved into the lining of my skirts, fumbling until I found the pouch of crossbow bolts. I grasped at one of them, pulled it free whilst my entire body roared with the pulsing of my blood.

Flinging my arm upwards, I drove it with all my strength into Rochefort's shoulder, too overwhelmed by the moment to think and consider I should have stabbed him in the heart. If he possessed one. Yet I sought to deliver him pain, that it might stun him from his insanity or at the very least, get him away from Anne and Constance. Rearing backwards, Rochefort arched as the bolt delved into his shoulder, protruding like a spike only an inch or so into his flesh. He clutched at it, but when his maddened eyes cast themselves upon me, I felt a fear unlike anything I had ever felt before.

It was like looking upon someone without a hint of humanity left within them, someone I could not reason with, someone who desired only blood and flesh, and his focus was upon me. He veered forwards, hand outstretched. I dove for the floor, snatching up my dagger as he staggered, groping at the empty air but as he turned, torso veered downwards from his half tumble, I slashed my dagger upwards. In a clean, efficient arc, I cut a line across his face, from cheek to brow, and even caught his eye. Blood immediately began to pour, Rochefort's screams echoing in the chambers yet still, no guards or servants came. It only told me just how deep rooted his control had become.

Clutching at his wound, I moved quickly to stand once more in front of Anne and Constance, ushering them into the corner of the room that I might better protect them. I felt Constance reach into my pockets so I allowed her to search, feeling her grasp my small crossbow and quickly load it with a bolt so that we stood together, two maidens guarding their queen, as the traitorous letch wailed in agony. Eventually his screaming quelled, giving way to harsh, laboured breaths. With his one remaining eye, Rochefort looking upon us with a burning hatred. "The king will hear of your adultery with the musketeer, Aramis." These words brought the world crashing down around me, and I had to fight to keep my expression neutral, giving away nothing. "Guards!" Unleashing his voice once more, Rochefort staggered away, wounded and beaten. "Come quickly! There is treason in our midst! Treason!"

The moment he was out of the room I darted forwards and closed the door, locking it in a feeble attempt to keep anyone out. Anne gasped, shuddered, then collapsed to the floor. "Anne!" Constance and I rushed to her, setting aside the weapons to lift her up and fan her face, tending to her as she reeled from the fright she had suffered. She was unconscious for only a few moments, but once she had gathered her senses, she looked upon us with such raw terror, it broke my heart to pieces. All at once she broke into endless sobs, and so Constance and I held her until they subsided. I held her for as long as I was able until I knew I had to rise. I had to get help, I had to ensure Anne's safety. I needed Athos. I needed my brother, Aramis, everyone. Surging to my feet, I placed my hand upon the sword still buckled at my hip. "Stay with her, Constance. Keep the crossbow and the dagger, I will send someone to fetch the musketeers. We must make our preparations for what is to come next."

"Alright, but be careful. Rochefort will want you dead after what you did to him." Tightening my grip upon the hilt of my sword, I welcomed the thought of Rochefort attempting to do anything to me.

"Let him try. I will gladly slit his throat for this." And I meant it. He had hurt Anne. Intended to molest her. Force himself upon her. I would castrate him and cast him bleeding into the Seine, tied down with iron chains and rocks. Striding towards the door, I unlocked and flung it open, sucking in a deep breath before unleashing the fullness of my wrath and fury upon the ignorant bystanders of the queen's apartments. "WHERE ARE THE QUEEN'S ATTENDANTS? WHERE ARE THE GUARDS? ATTEND TO YOUR DUTIES YOU WRETCHED TRAITORS!" Never had they moved so swiftly to obey me.

When the ladies in waiting scurried inside, it took everything I possessed not to slap each one of them. I barked orders at them, ordering them to bring hot water and brandy, to neaten the queen's appearance from where she had become dishevelled in the assault. Perhaps walking around openly with a sword upon my hip had them all frightened, for they made no complaint even as I had them racing to run errands, no matter how menial they appeared. I simply wanted to vent my anger, and they had betrayed Anne by allowing this to happen. I would run them ragged until I saw fit.

Knowing that Rochefort would take immediate steps to consolidate his authority and isolate the queen, I did all I could to counteract this. The very first action I took was to remove little Louis from his nursery. Of course, as one of his nursemaids, none dared question me when I strode inside, ordered the other ladies to step aside and claimed him for myself. "You cannot…" one of them dared to speak, stepping forwards as I gently lifted the precious prince from his cradle, softening my expression so that he would recognise me.

"Dare to stop me and you shall lose that hand," the woman froze, hand tensing from where it had stretched to pull at my arm. She hastily snatched it back. "The queen desires to see her son. Are you going to deny the queen her wish?" Not waiting for an answer, I carried little Louis in my arms, cradling him whilst stroking at his cheek until I had returned to Anne. She was sitting upon her bed now, still pale and withdrawn, but upon seeing her son she jumped to her feet.

"My son!" The dry croak told me that she had yet to drink something, so I snapped at one of the other ladies.

"Bring her milk and the brandy I asked for. Now!" Whimpering, the lady dashed away to obey. Carefully, I passed Louis into her arms.

"Thank you, Madeleine. Thank you…"

"I thought it best to bring him here, we must keep him safe, and he always comforts you…"

"No, Madeleine." Whilst holding Louis in one arm, I found Anne's other hand come to rest upon my cheek, holding it tenderly as she sniffed, still distressed, but gradually rallying herself. "If you had not come…if you had not fought him…protected me…I…I dare not think…I owe you everything." Although grateful that Anne was showing her gratitude, I thought now only of her comfort and safety, so I lay my hand over hers with a tender gaze.

"You are my queen, your majesty," I lowered my voice, "and my dearest friend. You may always depend on me to protect you." Managing a broken smile, Anne nodded her head.

"I may have to depend upon you again before long, dear Madeleine. You and Constance both."

"We shall be with you, your majesty." Constance moved forwards, and after Anne had held little Louis for a while, gave him to Constance and allowed the other ladies to attend to her appearance. They put up her hair from where it had fallen loose, straightened her clothing and cleaned her face from the evidence of tears, moving carefully and timidly, all whilst I watched them like a vicious hawk. I trusted none of them, but I stood with my hand upon my sword, dagger and crossbow returned to their concealed places, and I wanted nothing more than to simply hunt Rochefort down and be done with it. Even if it meant I had to hang.

A quiet knock sounded, and a messenger boy meekly stepped inside upon invitation. The musketeers had come. Constance rose to her feet and stated that she would go, looking to Anne who nodded her head. Little Louis was passed back into my arms, so I propped him upon my hip and entertained him by wafting my hat in front of his face so that the feathers tickled his nose. Every squeal and giggle prompted a growing smile upon Anne, so I ventured to make him laugh as much as possible.

When the door to the apartments opened, it revealed Constance, and behind her, only the best and most trusted of musketeers. Athos. Porthos. Aramis. D'Artagnan. All of them wore expressions of barely concealed anger, but none more so than Aramis. I glanced to him, holding his son in my arms, but he seemed to be unaware of anyone else in the room other than Anne who dismissed the other ladies. I remained standing, holding and jostling the prince whilst fanning him with my hat. Aramis spoke first, and I felt the sadness in his heart to see Anne so…wounded. "He dared to lay hands on you?"

"I trusted him." Her voice was barely more than a whisper, staring into blankness as her thoughts no doubt cried out in pain within her own head. "I thought he was my friend." My eyes went to my brother, who had fixated his own sight upon me. I wondered if he knew, if Constance had told him how I had fought Rochefort. Grappled with him, more truthfully, but still I could feel the aching pain of my wrist which was now black and purple from bruising. I struggled to conceal its pain, but my brother could see. I knew he could.

"The king has been informed?" Anne could barely bring herself to look at anyone directly, still lost in the shock of what had happened, but one comfort seemed to still shine through the haze of doubt and hurt. That she could trust the musketeers.

"My loyal musketeers will escort me." Without a word but bearing an expression of unfathomable rage, Athos led the way. I went with them, refusing to leave the queen or the dauphin, so I simply carried him with me as I had since the day he had been born. My arms had felt the progress of his growth, the increase of his weight and the changes of his shape with each passing day. I knew him by scent, that soft, pure smell only a baby possessed, and the warmth of him was as dear to me as my own brother's embrace. How I loved this boy, I would not allow any harm to befall him.

Behind us, I glanced back to see Constance whispering to Aramis, warning him that Rochefort knew of his transgressions. Alarm seeped into his gaze which darted to find mine, but there was nothing I could say to rectify this situation. Somehow, Rochefort had uncovered this heavily guarded secret, and now Anne's position was in peril, as was the dauphin's. It would not be long until his heritage came into question, but I hoped I could protect him from it coming to that. Striding to the king's council chamber, I heard Porthos' resonant shout commanding the red guards to step aside. They did not. "The king is not accepting visitors."

"This is not a visitor, it's the queen. Open the door." Clearly having been commanded by Rochefort to allow Anne not to enter, the guards stood their ground even as Anne strode to face them.

"Do as he says." Another time, her command would have been enough, but this was just another testament to Rochefort's power which had spiralled beyond control. I longed to have Richelieu alive once again. At least he was a nemesis we knew and could sometimes join forces with, for above all he had the interests of France in his heart. Rochefort's only interest was serving himself. "How dare you defy me!" Upon her outrage, all four men drew their swords, preparing to face the red guards as d'Artagnan stepped forwards.

"Open the doors or we'll kill you and open them ourselves." I held my breath whilst slowly moving little Louis to Constance for her to take him, allowing my hands to remain free should I need to dive into the fray of clashing swords to retrieve the queen. Thankfully, it did not come to that. The guards stepped aside, wisely deciding that their lives were not worth any order Rochefort gave them. Anne breezed forwards, emboldened by the presence of her friends and allies, and stepped into the king's presence. Immediately, he rounded upon her.

"You dare bring an armed guard into my presence?!"

"I must speak with you, sire," Anne began in earnest, attempting to engage his attention to tell him how Rochefort had mistreated her, but the king did not seem to be in a listening mood.

"You must indeed, madame." Before I could stop him, Aramis approached, bearing himself a man ready to combust from the sheer force of his rage.

"Whatever Rochefort's told you is all lies!" Astonished by the behaviour even as I winced, the king scowled at Aramis with pure distaste, wondering that someone would dare raise their voice to him. Then, with a flourish of paper, King Louis presented a letter in front of Anne.

"Do you deny that you wrote this letter? Is this your hand? Your royal seal?" I could not see her face, but I knew Anne well enough to be able to tell from her frame that she was alarmed, taking the letter from the queen in order to read it.

"The queen wrote to her brother the King of Spain even though your majesty expressly forbade her to do so." The cold, sinister and unfeeling tone of Rochefort made my blood boil. This time I stepped forwards, contenting myself to slap him or take his other eye, I had not yet decided which, but my brother grasped my wrist. Unfortunately, it was my injured wrist. To stifle the cry of pain I thrust my fist into my mouth and breathed heavily, twisting myself away from Athos who looked sharply to the effect his touch had made.

"It was months ago," I heard Anne whispered softly. "When you were captured by slavers." But Athos had carefully seized my arm and pulled back the sleeve of my gown, exposing the thick, dark ring of bruising around my left wrist, swollen at least three times the usual size. He said nothing, his expression did not even change, but I felt the ominous transformation of his presence, how he suddenly seemed cold and unyielding.

"You invited foreign troops onto the sovereign soil of France?" The king demanded in an outrage, but my attention was still diverted upon Athos. Carefully, ever so carefully, he brought my sleeve back over my wrist, holding my hand and arm tenderly to raise the affected wound to his lips, bowing over my wrist to kiss it softly.

"A kiss for a swift recovery," I almost did not hear the words, but with a start, I realised that the faint memory I possessed of kisses and well wishes had come from him. It was astounding, for in my earliest memories, Athos had been a distant, stoic presence in the back of my mind. Thomas had been the warm, affectionate brother, the one I had ran to whenever I saw him, begging to be lifted into his arms.

"You might have been dead," Anne pressed, the argument between the king and queen only a faint murmur in the periphery of my attention, still staring at Athos. "My only thought was to protect your son, the dauphin."

"In any other of our subjects this might be called treason!" It had only been when I had grown older had I realised that Athos's coldness had not been a measure of unfeeling, simply a mannerism he possessed as part of his stoic and ever serene character. I had learned then that he loved deeply, and had taken the time to know him, and after a while he had allowed himself to open up to me. Yet all along, those tender moments had been his doing, and I wondered that I had forgotten such a thing.

"It was Rochefort who advised the queen to write to Spain." Hearing Constance speak, I dragged my gaze away from Athos to look upon her as she desperately attempted to help the queen's position, but Rochefort merely claimed her for a fantasist or a liar.

"Your majesty, she was there, she witnessed every word." D'Artagnan also avowed to Constance's honesty, but still the king looked unconvinced.

"Your majesty should listen to the queen. You can't trust this man." Even my brother offered his own word, which perhaps in any other circumstance and without Rochefort opposing us, might have been enough. Here and now, however, it was not.

"He is the only one I can trust." Glowering with absolute antipathy, the king snatched the letter back from Anne's fingers. "Now go."

"But…sire…"

"I can hardly bear to look at you." Speaking cruelly, Louis turned away from his queen and abandoned her, a tempest of impetuous naivete. "You musketeers, return to your garrison." This time, it was we who were defeated. I went to Anne, grasped her hand to tell her that it was alright, but gently guided her to retreat. Eventually Anne gathered her own momentum and strength, squeezing my hand before letting go and striding forwards on her own, returning to the safety of her own familiar apartments only to find them guarded by Rochefort's men.

"Am I to be a prisoner, then?" Cutting through them until the last pair who shouldered themselves together, one guard grasped at Constance, attempting to pull the prince out of her arms so I lunged forwards and pushed him aside with an incredulous expression of outrage he would dare be so impudent. A hand clamped down upon my shoulder, pushing me with a violent thrust into the wall before I could react, however this was the catalyst which sparked the seething rage of the men.

"Oi!" Porthos bellowed even as my brother hissed, making towards me as Porthos simply turned to the nearest guard before him. "You all need to learn some respect!" Balling a fist he rammed it into the guard's stomach, doubling him over. All at once they all descended into fisticuffs. Darting forwards, I grasped Constance and pulled her away, hurrying to Anne to stand by her and kicked anyone away if they came too close, one hand in my pocket to keep a secure grip upon my sheathed dagger.

"You were ordered to return to your garrison!" Rochefort's voice cut through the turmoil, ending the violent brawl as he stood at the other end of the corridor, flanked by more guards. Behind me, I heard more guards approaching, drawn in by the noise. "Will you deny your King's direct command?"

"There must be no suggestion that our faithful musketeers are disloyal." Anne immediately countered, defending her musketeers as readily as she would her own dignity. Looking upon her with scorn, Rochefort told her that it was too late, not even calling her by her proper title which enflamed Anne's ire. "You will address me as your majesty!" Moving to stand at her back, I blocked the guards from reaching her, eyeing them calmly and steadily, unfazed by their number and bulk. In a low voice I felt that I could hear Aramis threaten Rochefort, warning him that he would die for all he was doing.

I completely understood the sentiment and would not be opposed to being the one to offer the finishing blow. They spoke quietly, my brother also delivering his own warning before they were all commanded away. I looked behind me, watching as they were forced to leave us, one by one, but they did not go quickly. They too all turned back, Aramis gazing at Anne, d'Artagnan at Constance, whilst Athos and Porthos both looked with worry etched into their faces at me. Inclining my head to tell them to leave, I then raised my head. "Go," I whispered discreetly, knowing that for now, we had no choice.

At the very least, they could rest assured that Constance and I would protect Anne and the dauphin, even when Rochefort took him from us. I had begun to fight at this point, but Anne stilled me with a word, understanding that she had to give up her son at least for a little while. Little Louis was given into the care of Marguerite, who looked to be ailing from a hidden sickness herself she was so gaunt and withdrawn. My nerves were now ablaze, and I could not keep myself still.

The queen was confined to her chambers, and all I could do was pace whilst she and Constance sat. "Please, Madeleine. You will wear yourself out," Anne pleaded gently after a while, patting the open space beside her on the bed. "At least let us take a look at your wrist, I see you favouring it."

"It is nothing, Anne, I am fine."

"No you are not," Constance argued, rising to her feet to drag me to where they had been sitting before fetching water and clothes. "Now, let us see." I did not want to show them, for I knew Anne would take it badly, but she was already lifting back my sleeve. Both of them gasped to see the injury, already betraying just how strongly Rochefort had held me in his grasp. "Oh Madeleine…you should have said sooner!"

"It seemed of little consequence in the grand scheme of things," allowing myself an improper shrug, Anne grasped my fingers tenderly, fresh tears rising and falling as she looked upon the swollen and bruised limb.

"This is my fault…"

"No!" I spoke too harshly, made her jump, but it snapped her face up to meet mine. "No, Anne. None of this is your doing, you are simply the object of obsession for a man who lost his sanity a long time ago. You are blameless in this," I insisted to her as Constance soaked a cloth then lay it over my wrist. At first I hissed, but then the soothing coolness became a welcome sensation, and I allowed her to wrap the cloth around the bruising. "This is nothing compared to what he might have done to you if I had stood by, I will gladly take this small affliction if it means your safety."

"Such loyalty as I do not deserve…thank you, Madeleine, and I am so very sorry. To both of you." Sniffling to hold back her tears, Anne leaned across and kissed my cheek which promptly made me blush.

"Loyalty and love, Anne. Always." I promised her, and this time she smiled with a little more naturalness. For a time, she lay her head upon my shoulder and even managed to sleep, so I remained there whilst Constance tended to my injury, soothing it with cold water before binding it so that it felt better supported.

"What do you think will happen now?" She asked in a whisper whilst Anne slept against me, her light breaths constant and soft.

"The musketeers will come for us," I determined with no lack of confidence. "They love us too greatly to leave us here, so they will come. One way or another. We must wait, and hope that they can take you and Anne out of here." Tot his Constance did not answer, merely reached for my uninjured hand to hold it as together, we waited.