After he had traded out her delightful little cocktail traded for tea and honey, she was unlikely to have told him aloud that her attempt to picture Porthos and d'Artagnan in dresses had not come with any guess as to what they'd look like female. The image of big, broad Porthos in a skirt was too much for a sober mind, let alone hers at that moment.

There has been too little laughter in recent days, weeks or months, even, if she stopped to consider it. It felt amazing. So much so that she could not imagine why she had not done more of it, or how she had managed as long as she had either before they (with the exception of Athos) came crashing into her life or after they had been banished from it before she had been given the escape of the Palace and her place at the Queen's side.

Her smile was broad as she agreed, "Then I will."