The look she gave him then was of a mixture of equal parts fondness and exasperation as was so often inspired in her by the Musketeers in her life. One that spoke of a familiarity with romantic fools and the seeming inability not to be charmed by them out the things they did out of love or the sense of right and wrong so ingrained in them and so absent from so many she had met. d'Artagnan, she was certain, had played much a part in her growing understanding of such things, and saw that she gave Aramis a fond smile.

"I know that, I do." Where she worried was not of motive, but of the lack of understanding men seemed to share of what limits the world had put on the women who lived in it. How many times had she argued with d'Artagnan on that very score? "I only ask that you trust me, and that you be careful. You cannot be ruled by your heart here, Aramis. You must use your head, for their sakes, and keep your distance."

Her fingers squeezed at his arm again as she spoke, "Please, help me keep them safe and keep your distance in Paris. I would do all I can to protect them both, but promise me you'll be careful."