It was early the next morning that I was awaken to a knock at the door. I went downstairs and was suprised to find Porthos at the front door.
"Morning."
"Morning...what are you doing here?"
"Nice to see you too, Daria."
I let him side and we walk to the kitchen. He helps himself to some rolls on the table.
I stand and wait for him to explain why he's here, but he just chews on. After a minute her looks at me coyly.
"Alright, enough playing around." He says to himself presumably "Treville sent me to retrieve you."
"For?"
He Tsk- Tsk's me, as if the answer is obvious.
"To train of course. If you're fighting in the name of a Musketeer, you must fight like a Musketeer."
"Really?" I'm excited. I loved my father, but he only taught me the basics. Learning from professionals, Musketeers at that, was a chance to better my skill.
"But you can't wear that."
"He points to my dress."
"I've won quite a fe fights in a dress. As you know."
"True, but they can hinder your fighting. Tripping, or being caught in something could cause you to loose your target."
"That I can understand, but I don't own anything else."
"Don't worry, we have you covered."
"I don't like that look on your face."
"What look?" He fails to sound shocked.
I narrow my eyes at him as I write a quick or to leave for Mr Bonacieux and Charles. I grabs my Fathers sword and sheath before I go. Then I follow Porthos out the door and we make our way to the Garrison.