Aramis glances up in time to catch the last traces of something very like disgust on Athos' features, and not for a moment does he believe it aimed at himself. It is different now, being together like this after Aramis' proposal, Athos' refusal, but Aramis is a man well accustomed to navigating the intricate waters of a man's feelings, whether they are his own or not.

He comes forward with his tie still loose about his thorat, tugging a caught shirttail from Athos' trousers with a smile. "I find I cannot wait," he confesses, holding up the new white shirt for Athos to slip his arms into. "I have an excellent feeling about this suit. If you outshine Porthos and I at the wedding, I have no one to blame but myself."