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Aramis watches them. He is a genius, but he does not see it coming. His best friend, instead of accepting the boy as his surrogate son, is inching closer and closer to the point of no return. Who would have thought it? Athos giving in to his base instincts!
Porthos is a ladies' man. They love him and he loves them. His passion does not extend to men, but even if it did, he would have better sense than to fall for a kid-soon-to-be-King. He thinks, if Athos is really infatuated with Philippe, he should get a move on.
Philippe watches them. They set him free, but he does not know what to make of them. Aramis imprisoned him in the first place. Porthos is ever-ready to indulge his senses, and Philippe is not sure how he feels about that. Athos is a man of few words and that is not really an issue, but he seems to be hiding something.
Athos knows he is not a good man. He knows it the first time he hears Philippe scream. There is not much he can do about it, but he will be damned if he lets anyone find out. Especially Philippe. But the dreams, oh, the dreams are sweet, sweeter than revenge.
Philippe knows that something is wrong. But if he keeps still, and quiet, and pretends to be asleep, the footsteps that pass by his door each night will not stop, will not falter, will go on and move away from the door, and will not come back. Maybe one day... It is his greatest fear, and his greatest hope.
Aramis sees the doors closing. Not the physical ones, but the doors of possibility that lead to unnamed, undefined tomorrows that will never come to pass. Philippe has taken the throne as Louis XIV, and no force in the world could now persuade Athos to open his lips. The King and his faithful musketeer will remain forever locked in a dance of no disclosure.
Their friends will keep their secret, and no one could ask for more than that.