It was simply meant to take Aramis to another set of rooms. Instead, the door had taken him here again, to this "hotel." The Queen isn't here and neither is the Dauphin.
There is no earthly reason for Aramis to be here.
Yet, the door has disappeared and here he is.
Taking a deep breath, he swallows his frustration, at least slightly assuaged because he knows he will eventually get back to Versailles. Another deep breath and he starts to walk.
He is clad differently than the last time he was here, wearing his Ministerial clothes. No hat, his hair as coiffed as it gets, his clothing unstained and still, he wears a crucifix under his tunic.
Things are going as well as they can back in Paris, which offers him some consolation. He may as well, he thinks, have a shower and some of the food that he can't have in Paris before he begins his search for the door back anew. He will look for his comrades, too, of course, whom have been away for some time, d'Artagnan aside. It will, he tells himself, be good to catch up.
Otherwise, he visits his room, and then spends time looking about the hotel and grounds; he won't risk a door unless it means he ends up in Paris; he doesn't want to risk getting lost. Not when he's so recently been found.