The memory of Anne strikes him particularly harshly, not through any fault of Aramis’, but because memories that were absent only yesterday seem fresher now. He had been happy, that was the trouble. He had found happiness and had it snatched from him. Athos fears finding and losing happiness all over, but he also fears never finding it, not the way Aramis and Porthos wish him to, and disappointing them once again.

Still, their warm presence so close at hand soothes his beating heart. Athos is enclosed and protected by them here, in this moment, whatever is to come. He knows the house is only a prelude to the rest - that is what frightens him, not the thought of leaving this putrid city for the countryside - but for now can only imagine one wild step at a time. “Promise me you will not sign anything until I see this bit of land, then,” he quips. “I won’t have you purchasing some impractical rocky slope because you like the romance of it."