"I am a father ..."

This sentence made him smile gently. He followed in silence Athos and Porthos to the place of convergence. The young Louis Dieudonné would be presented to the military and the musketeers dressed for parade had to be present.

"Where is Aramis? "Asked Athos, when they were set up for the parade

_ He was on duty last night, he must be tired and will arrive just in time. There is another who needs rest, he added, pointing to the youngest.

_ I'm fine, thank you Porthos, the latter replied, checking his sword.

_ If you say so. Still, Mr. I never drink ... You left a sacred bill to our innkeeper.

_ I never said that, D'Artagnan corrected. And two things: First, compared to you, I never seems to drink, and secondly, my bill is relatively small compared to yours!

_ One for D'Artagnan, Athos concludes. Now hush!

Front of their column, stood with arms raised Treville. In a loud, clear voice, accustomed to command, the captain ordered them to set up for the parade.

_ Gentlemen Musketeers, you would not want the guards of His Eminence surpasses us in style.

A roar went up to him.

_ That's what I thought. So we are preparing. Back straight, chin up, proud look. Gown right collar well dressed, polished boots are ...

He enumerated his list while passing in the row to check himself.

_ But what do Aramis? Porthos breathed by checking the meeting.

_ It will happen, the calm Athos while smoothing the shirt collar of D'Artagnan a time as usual!

_ Well reasoned Athos, said a voice behind them.

_ Aramis! Finally! Porthos breathed.

Quickly, the musketeer took his place alongside Porthos. The parade began. The army corps marched past the windows to the sound of royal drums before stopping in front of the king.

"Present arms! "

The swords were raised the same movement. So, taking a pack of diapers the king raised it high. D'Artagnan held her breath. And if the king let go of his son? His son? But who was his father? The man who had betrayed his king by loving the Queen or the man who was married to her ? This man who could touch her, love her, but preferred ignore her ? He, poor musketeer, had to see his child call another man who won't love him "Dad". Just because, his beloved was the Queen. And because the kingdom had no heir. They sacrificed their son for it. They sacrificed their love for a kingdom…

Sadness took precedence over pride. Yes ... his son, the son of Louis XIII, not his. This pile of diapers, the future king, he corrected mentally, would never be his son. No. It would be for all to see and to himself as the son of Louis XIII the Just. The son of a man unable to love anyone except his favorites, unable to love the wonderful woman that the game of political alliances had given him. A woman that he loved Anne... Anne who he will never see again. They had sworn. He had vowed never to say anything. Nobody, not even to her confessor, would know. Even the little Louis, the life they had created, would know anything. Because talk, even to his three friends, was the death sentence. And that he could not. Their secret was kept until their death.. His eyes hung the pack of diapers in the arms of his housekeeper, Madame de Lansac. This baby ... Their baby.

Despite the sadness, a smile was born. Their love gave life ... A life that he promised to protect at all costs.

Even his own.