At first, it didn't seem real – how could something so horrible be real? However, as soon as d'Artagnan began to believe that all this was a horrific vision and that Constance was alive and well and would soon see him, he felt Athos's hand on his shoulder, and as he saw Porthos's solemn face, and Aramis whispering softly to one of the nuns, and finally, when his gaze traveled over to his beloved Constance, who was so beautiful, so alive still, he understood that what he had perceived as a nightmare was real, and he fell to his knees and felt tears run down his cheeks, and though he had never allowed himself to cry, for all the time he had spent in Paris, he didn't care.

That night, when Athos paid a visit to d'Artagnan, he found him sitting on the floor with a dull, lost look in his eyes. Athos's sharp eyes noticed that the young man had indulged an entire bottle of Spanish burgundy, which lay empty on the floor beside him.

"I can recall that in Amiens, I drank about one hundred times more than you have, d'Artagnan. Drinking is a poor habit, my young friend, though hypocritically, I do it myself often to dull pain."

D'Artagnan was oblivious to Athos's words. He sat limply, staring at something far, far away.

After a minute, though, d'Artagnan lifted his gaze up and looked at Athos with eyes full of pain.

"Athos…" he spoke in a cracked voice and buried his head in his arms.

"It's useless! Why even continue serving the king when he can't take a single step without the approval of the Red Duke and the Red Duke's spies, who kill and don't even…Oh, that woman!" the young man shouted, and suddenly sprang up and ran into the next room, from which he retrieved his sword and broke it into two pieces.

As soon as he did so, he seized the pillow off his bed and began stabbing it with the remain of his sword, overcome by a fit of rage.

"Why Constance?! Why, why, WHY did you chose my beautiful Constance?!" he hollered.

Athos watched emotionlessly, saying nothing.

After a few minutes, the young man's rage ran out, and the struggles of the day suddenly caught up to him and layered a blanket of immense tiredness on his shoulders. His grip relaxing and the stub of a sword that he held slipped out of his hands, and d'Artagnan collapsed weakly in a mess of cloth and feathers, falling into a deep sleep.

We cannot say how much time had passed, but when the young man awoke, Athos stood over him and offered him his arm.

D'Artagnan stood up, and then he suddenly remembered everything that had happened before his sleep. He moaned and began to fall again, but Athos's strong, firm grip held him up.

"You must not let yourself get destroyed by grief and anger, d'Artagnan. I was given this advice years back, and upon my word as a gentleman, I would not be speaking to you now had I not followed it."

He paused for a moment and continued.

"I know how you can get your revenge, but in order to do so, you must let life go on. Come now, my friend – Constance is gone, but life must go on."

D'Artagnan listened and found truth in his friend's words. With that, he took a deep breath, stood up, and with Athos at his side, walked on toward the exit.

"Constance is gone, but life must go on…" Athos's words echoed in his head. And others, as well, such as the phrase the Gascon had heard many times from his father, when in boyhood, he had cried.

"Musketeers don't cry."

Musketeers don't cry…