It's good to be back, Guest! I've missed you guys! And now that I've been laid off from my job, I'll have a lot more time to brainstorm and write!

Constance was heading back to D'Artagnan's hospital wing with some food on a tray for Athos, when Aramis approached her. "Mademoiselle!" He called to her, tipping his hat.

Constance smiled weakly, curtsying. "Master Aramis. Oh, it is good to see you." She said softly.

"Likewise." Aramis smiled. "How is D'Artagnan?"

Constance's face fell. "His fever is down." She sighed. "However, he is still very weak. The doctor says that he is not out of danger yet. He is still at great risk for infection."

"I'm dreadfully sorry to hear that." Aramis said, removing his hat. "How are you, lass? You look weary."

"I am alright." Constance smiled feebly. "It is Monsieur Athos you should be worried about."

"Athos? Is he still here?"

"Wi, Sir. He has not left this place, and I do not believe he slept at all last night." Constance explained. "I was just bringing some food for him."

"That is extremely kind of you, Mademoiselle." Aramis smiled.

"It is the least I could do. He did help save my life, after all."

"Mmm." Aramis grunted.

"How is D'Artagnan's sister? And how is Kitty?"

"Oh. Kitty is a gem. She certainly knows a lot about being a personal maid. She has been a great help to me." The priest said proudly. "Felice? She's…" Aramis blushed. "She's quite ill, I'm afraid."

"Oh." Constance nodded.

"Allow me to accompany you." Aramis offered. Together, they quietly made their way to D'Artagnan's room. Athos was still there, sitting on a chair against the wall across from D'Artagnan's bed.

"Food, sir. You should eat." Constance told the older musketeer.

"No." Athos mumbled. Constance sighed, and looked up imploringly at Aramis for assistance.

"Honestly, mon ami, it is difficult to say who is the more mule-headed, you or D'Artagnan." Aramis shook his head, chuckling.

"He is. Which explains why he is in this damn hospital bed and I am not." Athos said dryly.

"Well, Athos, the dear young lady has been kind enough to offer her companionship at this time, and even went to the trouble to bring you nourishment. I believe you owe her some thanks for her efforts." Aramis scolded mildly, crossing his arms.

"Of course. My apologies, lass." Athos mumbled.

"I understand, Sir." Constance smiled. "I only ask that you take some nourishment. If you wish to help D'Artagnan, you must keep up your strength." She set the tray down on the night table .

Athos stared at her, taken aback. He was absolutely speechless. Aramis snickered at his sudden dash of humility. Most of the time, Athos's friends stepped on eggshells around him, afraid to trigger his temper or just cold words. But not this girl! She was absolutely fearless!

"That is...very considerate of you." Athos finally said. He reached out and took the cup of apple cider from the tray. "My thanks."

"No need for that." Constance smiled sweetly.

"How is Felice?" Athos asked Aramis. Aramis's face grew warm at his friend's question.

Aramis bit his lip, and fidgeted his boot along the wooden floor. "She is not much better. She...she appeared quite delirious with fever when I left the house!" He explained worriedly.

"And you just left her?! Alone?!" Athos growled.

"I had to send for the doctor!" Aramis exclaimed defensively. "And she was not alone! Planchet and Kitty are with her."

"Must I do everything the efficient way myself?" Athos groaned.

"Are you alright, Miss?" Kitty asked nervously.

"I'm alright, Kitty." Felice said.

"The doctor is here."

"What? Oh, alright." Felice shook her head. Dr. Beaufort walked inside the room.

"Morning, Mademoiselle." He smiled kindly. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm alright." Felice bit her lip.

"She's lyin', Sir!" Kitty told the physician.

"Kitty!" Felice scolded sharply.

"She was real sick earlier, she was! Talkin' to herself, frantic-like, and running with fever!" Kitty exclaimed.

"Thank you, Miss." Dr. Beaufort nodded gratefully to Kitty and began to take Felice's pulse.

"That's not what happened." Felice moaned. "It was stupid, really."

"I'll be the judge of that, lass." Dr. Beaufort grinned.

"I had a strange dream. It was...extremely odd, and I was still trying to grasp the meaning of it when-ahh!" Felice grimaced painfully as the doctor pressed his hand to her side. She gritted her teeth, trying not to cry out.

"Alright is not quite the word I would use to describe your condition, Miss." The doctor told her sternly.

"Athos? Why don't you come home with me?"Aramis suggested. He rose from his knees at D'Artagnan's bedside where he had clasped the boy's hand and prayed fervently. "Porthos will be arriving soon. He can spell you, and stay with D'Artagnan for the night. You need some rest."

"No. Thank you, Aramis." Athos said softly. Constance had left some time ago to return to the palace, accompanied by two of Treville's men. Her gentle but spunky manner had shamed Athos into speaking more gratefully to his friends for their care. "I am staying here."

"I understand." Aramis smiled sadly. "Is there anything I can do for you, old friend?"

"A good, stiff drink." Athos breathed wistfully.

"I guarantee you that Porthos shall not fail you on that score. Well, I'd best be getting back. Send word if there is any change!"

"Most certainly. Look after Felice." Athos said.

"I will!"

"Your fever has broken, Miss!" Kitty told her friend happily.

"Good." Felice sighed. I must know how Charles is!

"You should sleep, Miss."

"I suppose you're right."

Felice could not sleep even though she'd tried closing her eyes. Her mind was too wired with worry for her brother. Was he even still alive?!

She heard some familiar boots pounding the wooden floor in the hallway and she sighed with relief. Having forgotten her ridiculous dream, she was on pins and needles, hoping Aramis had brought positive tidings about D'Artagnan. Aramis knocked on the door.

"Come." Felice answered. The tall, dark, kind priest stepped inside.

"Hullo, dear." He smiled.

"Aramis," Felice sighed happily. "It's good to see you!"

"The feeling is mutual. You look better."

"Yes. Planchet and Kitty have been taking good care of me."

"Has the doc-"

"Have you seen Charles? How is he?" Felice blurted out.

Aramis's face fell. "He's holding his own." He answered dejectedly.

"How bad?" Felice asked.

"Well, he's-he, his fever hasn't increased."

"Aramis," Felice met his eyes. "I am not under twelve. Please tell me the truth. I must know!"

Aramis sighed. She was right. "It is hard to say right now, Felice. He's no better, but no worse. He's quite weak." Aramis said quietly. "I know it is difficult, not being able to be close to him, but I feel that we should be grateful for any favorable results we are granted."

"Has Constance been to see him?"

"Wi. She comes as often as possible. Athos has hardly left his side."

"That's reassuring. If Athos is with him, I know he'll be safe." Felice murmured.

"Captain de Treville has posted men all about D'Artagnan's room, including outside the hospital."

"I wish I could be with him."

"You will soon, love. Has the doctor been here yet?"

"Yes. And my fever finally broke."

"Excellent! And what did he say?"

"He said that I am healing very well. No infection. But, he ordered me to remain in bed for five more days." Felice hung her head.

"Well, that is good news! I am relieved to hear that. You had me very worried when we found you on the ship!"

"Aramis, do you think Charles will make it?" Felice asked seriously, her eyes pleading. Aramis gripped her hand.

"I pray so, darling. But it is not for us to know. We must put our trust in the One who does know."

"I am trying to. But I can't help worrying. What if he...doesn't make it? What if he...if I am unable to see him before he…"

"Shh. Felice, Felice, calm yourself, darling!"

"He's the only family I have in Paris, Mother and Father must be so terrified. And-"

"What about us?" Aramis interrupted.

"What?" Felice frowned at him, bewildered.

"Felice, are we not your family?"

Felice felt as if she'd been kicked in the stomach, seeing the clear disappointment in his dark eyes. "Oh, Aramis. I'm sorry! I meant…"

"Felice, we care about you, both of you dearly. You are more than comrades to us. You are family to us."

Tears filled her eyes. "I'm sorry, Aramis. I am such a wreck right now. I am not thinking clearly."

"Would you like me to stay?"

"Don't you have militant duties you must tend to?"

"Nothing that cannot wait. I can spare some time, love."

"Then yes, please will you stay for a while?"

"Of course." Aramis smiled, pulling a chair beside the bed. "How are your ribs?"

"Alright. Sore. But I mostly feel restless."

"Perhaps this will occupy your mind for a while." Aramis pulled a book out of his cloak and handed it to her. Her eyes lit up in surprise.

"For me?" She gaped at the beautiful blue volume.

"Aye. I know you are deeply afraid for your brother, darling. We all are. But you need something else to focus on while you recover. And I...I picked it out for you myself." Aramis

bit his lip.

Felice stole a glance at his dashing face. Was it only the lighting in the room, or were his cheeks inflamed? His color seemed to be steadily rising. Was he feeling...bashful around her?!

"Th-thank you." Felice's own cheeks burned and she stared down at the book in her lap.

"Perhaps you should sleep. You look tired, love." Aramis said thoughtfully.

"I am afraid to sleep, Aramis."

"Afraid?"

"I keep thinking that I will sleep, then when I wake, I will learn that Charles has-"

"Don't think that way! Come now, try to sleep." Aramis began adjusting her pillows.

"I can't."

Stubborn Gascon, Aramis thought, shaking his head. "How about if I read to you?" He offered.

Felice's jaw dropped. Did he think of her as merely a child? Or was he only being kind? Most likely both, Felice decided."You think I shall be lulled to dreamland by your angelic, illustrious voice, do you?" She teased, quirking her eyebrows.

The lanky man dropped into the chair at the side of her bed. "Sacre bleu! My dear! You wound me with your suspicious, Gascony nature!" Aramis sputtered dramatically, clutching his chest.

Felice giggled painfully then passed the book into his hands. "I would like that." She said wearily with a bright smile."Merci...mon ami."

"I would be glad to." Aramis smiled back at her, his soft gray eyes filled with warmth. He set the book in his lap and reached over to take her hand.

Felice stared at his larger hand encompassing her own, and she felt a fiery surge run through her body. What was he doing? She marveled at the gentle but calloused surface of his palms. They were strong, and steady, yet tender. It was taking every cell of willpower in her entire body not to pull his hand to her face and nuzzle her cheek into it! His touch was dizzying, accompanied by his voice was dizzying. It felt like...in her dream! The touch, the aura in the room, the suffocating fluttering in her chest...

Get a grip, stupid! She inwardly scolded herself. He's a man. He's not interested in you! You're just a girl. A cowardly, helpless little girl. He's too old for you!

"But first," Aramis murmured, "let us pray together, darling."

Ohh, just you wait until the next chapter! Just you wait!