//------------------------------// // But Oh How Exciting! // Story: You Can Lead a Horse to Water... // by SoothingCoffee //------------------------------// Intimately, Henrietta de Tristain knew what she was doing was wrong. Father - bless his soul - had died, Mother still mourned, and it was up to her to take a step up. As the Crown Princess, she had her responsibilities - her own duties to fulfill, and what she was currently doing was the exact opposite of that. But Henrietta couldn't help it. A break, she liked to think what she was currently doing. Her last, and final time to let her hair down, and push these weights of responsibility off her shoulders. She was only thankful that Agnes was very understanding about it. Oh, Henrietta was pretty sure that she was still keeping an eye for her somewhere around, but at least she hadn't gone into a sword-brandishing and musket-slinging limpet on her. Henrietta couldn't help but release a small sigh. What had Halkegenia - or the world, for that matter - gone into? Albion - oh Wales, her heart still ached at the reminder - was in the middle of facing a coup, King Joseph of Gallian had gone awfully quiet lately, the Pope was kidnapped, and not in a couple months, she was going to marry that brutish Germanian Emperor's son for the sake of her country. She shook her head with another sigh, and focused back on the now. Titania Street was as how she had last visited it. Closing onto the lower part of the city, it wasn't as clean as the Saint Street with its cobbled road, and nor was the markets as esoteric as the Crown Street, but the place made up for it with the bustle. Commoners frolick here and fro almost without a care, smiling in their own merry way. Merchant stands called for customers from the side, and shops of variable goods boasted their bests just behind the window. Henrietta was not naive, or ignorant enough to notice the lack of nobles in their midst. Or at the very least, nobles who weren't actively doing their best impression of a peacock. Even now, she could feel the not-so-furtive glances to her. Or to be more specific, to the reason why she was here. Trixie, she called herself. A girl of approximately her age, with a certain… flamboyance with the way she spoke. Henrietta wasn't sure if that was her real, or fake name, but she wasn't particularly concerned on the questionability of that fact. Rather, she was more concerned on the eerie similarity between the petite blue-haired - and undoubtedly, if unconfirmed - mage, and the other more familiar petite pink-haired mage that was her childhood friend. In Henrietta's opinion, there were three sorts of 'similarities' between people. The accidental sort - the one-in-a-million type of thing - the familial sort, and the artificial kind. The first she crossed immediately, because there's a limit on how similar a person can be. The second she threw with a snort - she wasn't that naive. Her Family, and the Valliere were close. Still close - 'there were rumors of your mother, and their mother' kind of close. So if somehow, one way or another, Louise had a twin, she would have known - and the less said about the impossible possibility of Lady Karin committing adultery, the better. Even trying to procure such an image hurt her head. Still, that left the third option. Which was somehow both relieving, and worrying. Although more the latter, than the former. There had been rumors in the air, lately - elves coming out of the woodwork, and wearing human skins. Henrietta had never taken any rumor without a grain of salt, yet there's still a hidden kernel of truth within every rumor. It still didn't make any sense. Why Louise, of all people? Even better, why Louise, if you weren't going to even bother? Because for all that Trixie looked eerily similar to Louise, it wasn't hard to separate the two. Mainly, her hair-color, and the clothing. Was it a ploy to trick her? To somehow gather her attention? Ignoring how today was entirely unplanned, then it was working. "Ah!" Trixie pointed to the side. "This must be the shop Scarron told Trixie about!" Henrietta followed her pointing finger down to a modest looking shop - Leo's Wonderful Workshop of Ingenuities, the sign read. Bit mouthful, Henrietta couldn't help but dryly add. A stall was standing right in front of it - baskets with their sorted goods inside, and a few items showcased through hanging them by a rope from the stall's ceiling. Maps, toys, trinkets, accessories. Things you would expect from such a shop, albeit without the maps. "You! Trixie would like a map! No, make that two!" Henrietta's head snapped up. There was a man in charge of the stall. In his thirties, give or take. Tall, and lanky, his cheeks looking somewhat gaunt. His black hair was slicked, and touched the back of his neck, while his moustache was styled in the way those Gallians seemed to love. Curled, and sharp on both points. He also looked like he would rather be anywhere than here, if the slouch was any sign. His eyes glanced down to Trixie. "Yes, yes," he sighed, pulling himself straight. "What map would you want? We have several of them," Henrietta cocked an eyebrow, and peered forward. She couldn't see them before, but now that she was closer, yes, there were a lot of maps. Piled up in a basket, almost carelessly so. It made her cringe. There was a variety of them, even of places she didn't know existed before, and she swore she spotted a few treasure maps of dubious credibility. Surprisingly, they were rather well drawn. She gestured at them. "You drew all of these?" He snorted. "Not me. They're all my sister's," at that, he nodded towards the shop's sign. "I'm just here tending the front," "Impressive," Henrietta admitted. The man shrugged, before turning to Trixie. "So, what map do you want?" Louise's lookalike pursed her lips. "Hmm. I believe I shall be taking two of this continent's map, if you have those, the local maps! And hmm..." she trailed off, hand tapping her chin as she browsed through the collection. Henrietta turned away, keeping an eye on the doppelgänger - as the Germanians would call them - and looked around what the shop could offer. Who knew, perhaps she'll finally find something that would interest Agnes that didn't involve fire mages. Such occasions were rare, and should be nonetheless pursued when possible. ()_()_() "Hmm," Trixie tapped her chin in thought, willing her illusion to do the same, as she looked through the collection of items. A variety of interesting trinkets, and novelty baubles, and maps. Maps were great. Indubitably so when you nearly spent your whole life on the road, teetering on being lost, but not quite. There were even treasure maps here! Probably fakes most, if not all, of them - a scheme hatched by opportunists, and gypsies to fool naive fools for a quick fortune. But they were exciting nonetheless. They gave her ideas on where next to go, visit towns she had never noticed before, and if there were actual treasures? Good for her. Her eyes stayed on a pendant. A gold-painted pear-shaped thing. There was a latch on its side, undoubtedly to store a tiny portrait, or something or the other. It reminded her of that one amulet she had recently bought. Trixie frowned at the memory. That one had costed her pretty bits, and she couldn't even remember the reason she bought it! Not that it mattered, since it was stolen along with her wagon. "Ugh," Trixie turned away, sour mood returning. She snatched a random treasure map. She couldn't read them, anyway. "Trixie will take this as well," she grumbled. The man cocked an eyebrow, before shrugging, carefully plucking the bundle of map from the air. "That all?" "Yes," answered Trixie surly, pulling out her pouch of bits. "How much?" The man named his price. Trixie tuned that out, and pulled out bits from her pouch. Really, she didn't know the conversion from bits to… whatever these people use for currency, and the less said about her literacy the better. Besides, she had noticed that her bits had worth more. Or enough, at the very least. Hopefully. The man stared, his jaws working wordlessly. "Huh," he eventually said, grabbing three of dozen of floating Bits. He threw them up in the air, testing the weights. Fingers rubbing them. "Real gold," he licked his lips, before shrugging, slipping the bits into his pocket. "Okay then," Trixie rolled her eyes, pushing the Bits back to its pouch, and levitated the maps into her saddlebag. Couldn't they act more normally? "Yes, yes," Trixie rumbled out, stepping back into the street - And jumped a couple centimeter off the air as Henrietta sidled up to her size. Trixie didn't do squeaking, but she did yelp. She stepped away from the girl, glaring. "What are you doing?!" Henrietta raised her hands in placation, but under her cloak, Trixie saw her blinking eyes. Confusion, and a little suspicion clear in her eyes, but they were gone as quick as they had appeared. Trixie ignored the feeling of pricking-ice in her gut, goosebumps rising on her fur, and continued to glare. "My apology, I didn't intend to startle you," Trixie continued her glare for a good measure, before turning away with a huff. "Don't repeat it again," she warned, walking aimlessly down the street. "Of course," Henrietta caught up to her side, keeping a distance away. A lull of silence, disturbed only by the crowd around them. "I've never seen those mints, before. You must've come from very far away." A pause. "Very far away." It took her a moment to get what the girl mean. "Indeed," Trixie admitted curtly, watching her steps. Something about the girl made Trixie feel a bit leery, partly uncomfortable, but she blamed it all on the whole abducted ordeal. She sniffed. "We call them Bits," "Naturally," the girl replied drly. "Strange name to call your currency," she pointed out. Trixie huffed, willing her illusion to do a half-shrug, before crossing her arms. "Trixie was not the one who introduced them. And they're not strange," she defended. "One Bit, two Bits. Entirely descriptive, Trixie believes. No need for complicated denominations," "Of course. Can I see one?" Trixie thought about refusing the girl, mainly out of spite because of her stubborn insistence to follow her - even if it proved beneficial on her end - and for startling her, but also partly because Henrietta was beginning to make her uncomfortable. Then Trixie realized that refusing Henrietta would make her more annoying - maybe even risk touching her! - and make her life all the more miserable. Trixie had enough miserableness to worth a lifetime, right now. With a grumble, and a silent curse under her breath, Trixie sneaked out a Bit from her saddlebag, and threw it right to her cloaked stalker. "Catch," To her disappointment, Henrietta did. "Nice throw," she commented, before pulling out another gold coin from her belt. Different mint - this place's currency, Trixie thought. It occurred to her that she didn't know what they were called. Trixie grumbled wordlessly, turning down to watch the road. There were less people around here, more coordinated, and more people with elaborative clothing. She was returning to the higher district, Trixie supposed, before pulling out her recently bought world map. She couldn't read them. Not the well-written-looking cursive words on them, but then she didn't need to. That was the beauty of maps. So long as they are decently-drawn, and you're not map-blind, you could still read them, regardless of your literacy capability. And this one was particularly well-drawn, so there was that too. There were several lands, but the map only concluded five of them. Separated by thick borders, as though they were walls. Beautiful-looking cursive writing on top of each country, pointing out their significance, a small symbol that seems to represent each of them. Four of them were connected by land, undoubtedly one of them being wherever she was now, and the other… was across the sea. Trixie made a curious noise at the back of her throat. Despite the lone land being the smallest one, it was the most attention grabbing. Something that had to do with its separation with the other countries, yet still included into the continent's map, and received its own fancy writing, and symbol. "What's wrong?" Trixie shakes her head, giving the girl a side-glance. "There is nothing wrong," "Oh," Henrietta hums, giving her a long expectant look, a hint of knowing right around the edges of her eyes. "Really?" "Yes, really," Trixie growled, shooting the hooden girl a look, before returning to the map. There was a relative moment of silence, and Trixie didn't need to look to know that the girl was still looking at her. As she turned back to the map, part of her realized some error in her judgement. "Fine," she grumbled grudgingly, before pointing at her destination. "Trixie is planning to go here, next," Henrietta blinked. "Albion? You shouldn't go there," "You're not Trixie's mother," the magician snapped. A pause. "Why?" A snort. For a moment, Trixie thought she saw a flash of concern. "You really don't know, do you?" "Is it really that obvious?" Trixie rolled her eyes. Another snort. "Albion is in the midst of a Civil War, right now," she muttered, and despite the hood cloaking her face, Trixie could see it darkening. "Or rather, a coup. Though it is all the same at the end of the day. Unless you have a band of hired mercenaries, I wouldn't go there. And even then," Trixie frowned, her eyes widening a tad as she considered the island on the map. War. That wasn't a word she would hear everyday, at least not actual war. The kind that was written in old History books forgotten in some untouched dusty depths of the library. Ones that weren't adulterated to make it… friendly or romanticized. Or worse, turned into some anthology of poems, or analogues to teach moral lessons to little fillies, and colts. Was it worth the risk? Trixie wondered. Following her own wanderlust into such an obviously - and almost instinctively so - place she should go next, or her own survival instinct. Trixie was not unfamiliar with brushes of death before, and they were certainly unpleasant, but… Well, since when had she stopped following her own wanderlust? "Well," Trixie finally decided. "Trixie believes that such a thing will not be stopping her. In fact, if Albion is in a war, then it's all the more important for a stage magician such as the Great and Magnificent Trixie to go there, and entertain the people with her glorious magic!" she declared loudly, spreading her hoof to the general surrounding. There's a lull of silence. Eyes were on the both of them, though mainly on Trixie. The walk resumed, almost aimless and idyllic in nature. "You could get yourself killed," Henrietta pointed out bluntly. Too bluntly, Trixie thought, as she stumbled in her steps, taking the air from her sails. "W-well," she recovered admirably. Trixie didn't do blushing - it was simply the blood rising up to her face. "Be that as it may, Trixie has made up her mind, and she's not one to compromise on her words!" "... I am not stopping you," Henrietta responded carefully, almost exasperatedly. "But do be careful. It would be a shame for you to just… die." Silence descended. She wasn't looking at Trixie anymore, instead back to the pair of coins in her hands. She sighed again. "Catch," It sailed lazily in the air, but Trixie nearly yelped as the coin quickly careened onto her face. At the last second, it halted mid-air, her blue aura enveloping it. Trixie glared. "Hey, what's the big idea?!" she snapped, before furrowing her eyebrows. "And this is not Trixie's," indeed it wasn't. Neither side had any alicorn. Trixie gave Henrietta a look. What did she think she was? Blind? Henrietta smiled, giving a slight titter. "Well, consider it a trade, Trixie. Though I prefer calling it 'sharing a memento,'" she added in softly, twirling the bit-coin between her fingers. Trixie inspected the coin, flipping it around with her magic. "Sharing a memento, huh?" she muttered. "Trixie likes the sound of that," she decided, slipping the golden coin into her pouch, before she turned down to the road. The cloaked woman hummed pleasantly at that. "That's good. Who knows," she smiled to her. For the first time, Trixie saw the woman's face fully. Fair white skin, well-cared for. Even for a pony, she could see that the cloaked woman was different compared to the others in the street. Younger, and prettier, Trixie thought. "Maybe we'll meet again," Trixie blinked, and the girl looked back down the street. Looking strangely stiff. "What's wrong-" Trixie followed her eyes. There were guards heading straight to her. ()_()_() In all honesty, Henrietta wasn't sure what to think of Trixie. On one hand, she looked almost identical like her best and childhood friend, but on the other hand, that shouldn't be possible. For one, Henrietta was sure that Louise only had two sisters, and Brimir would sooner rise up from the dead before the Karin would ever dabble in adultery. For two, the blue-haired mage was simply too… well, she wouldn't call her nice, but Trixie wasn't what she had in mind for a some shape shifting creature who would feast on your soul. In fact, Henrietta couldn't help but compare her personality to Louise. Confident, prideful - too prideful, Henrietta couldn't help but add - and an underlying hint of naivete, and kindness. Of course, Henrietta mused, she could be an actual foreigner. But what was the chance of that? That a foreigner would have a nearly identical look to her childhood best friend? Lower than she could ever count, Henrietta figured. "Who knows," she gave Trixie a smile, pocketing the golden coin - Bits, she called it -into the pocket of her cloak. "Maybe we'll meet again," more likely than not, if she had any say about it. It would be horrible to have someone like her to die in a civil war. Closing her eyes, Henrietta breathed through her nose before she turned back to the road - and froze when she saw the four leather-armored guards heading straight to her, Agnes leading them from the front. A vaguely apologetic expression on her face as the blonde musketeer making a beeline to her. The crowd had parted at their arrival, forming a line on the sideline. Most of them watched in curiosity. She could hear the whispers spreading. Henrietta grimaced, and grimaced even more when she looked to her side. Trixie straightened stiff, owlish eyes staring ahead. The girl looked like she was about to dash immediately - "Trixie, wait," the girl snapped her head to her. "They're safe, honest," she assured her, smiling. "Just let me talk to them, right?" She nodded, stiffly. Before relaxing ever so slightly, eyes narrowing, and lips curling into a disdainful frown. She was quiet, for once. Bad experience with authority or something else? The Princess wondered as she turned to Agnes, giving her the sternest look she could manage. Like that of a particularly disappointed mother. "Agnes, care to give an explanation?" she asked, tone low enough not to be overheard. It worked like a charm as the blonde musketeer shifted in discomfort. Self-training made it look like she was anything but that. But Henrietta knew better. "My apologies, Princess," she lowered her head, before raising it, "but the palace was worried of your missing, and while I would normally heed your command, I feel it unwise to leave you alone with…" she trailed off, glancing down to Trixie. Henrietta sighed in exasperation, rolling her eyes. "Geez, Agnes, I could take care of myself perfectly well, thank you. Besides, Trixie is not whatever threat it is you're imagining," she added another eyeroll at that. "Right, Trixie?" her hand went to grab her shoulder - Only for her hand to phase through. There was a moment of silence in the street as Henrietta's mind did a double flip, and a horizontal somersault. Slowly, she blinked, and turned to her side. Trixie was still there, but she wasn't there. Her hand, supposedly on the stage magician's shoulder, was now inside her shoulder. Henrietta blinked again, feeling strangely calm. She turned back to her Agnes, an equally nonplussed expression on her face as the musketeer's calloused hand gently pulled Henrietta's hand away from Trixie. Or rather, Trixie's Illusion. Some distant part of her mind recalled that she had never touched Trixie, and Trixie herself seemed hesitant to be touched. Did that mean - No. Henrietta's free hand went to her pocket, felt around the golden coin that was gifted to her. Glanced at the etching of a winged Unicorn. So that meant that Trixie had always been with her in person, and was perhaps shy on physical contact. Which meant that Trixie had ran away upon the guards' arrival. That was somewhat relieving. "Well then," Henrietta thusly surmised. The magic was strange, certainly new, though it wasn't a surprise anymore considering that the girl was a self-proclaimed foreign foreigner. Henrietta liked to think that it was some branch of Spirit Magic or the kind - heretical as that thought could lead to. Still, if Trixie hadn't lied, then she was going to Albion. When was the question. "Agnes," she called. Her loyal musketeer had stood ready, gathered her own composure long before Henrietta finished her thought. "Yes, Princess?" the guards had spread by some unspoken command, searching through the crowd for a certain blue-haired Louise lookalike. If Agnes hadn't sensed it, then it was unlikely they would find Trixie. "Could you spare a few of the musketeers, and post them around the city's entry to keep an eye on any sign of her leaving the city?" It sounded like a request. It was anything but that. Agnes nodded readily. "Of course, Princess. Is there anything else?" Henrietta thought about it for a moment. It came to her. She smiled. Yes, she could do that, couldn't she? "Her name's Trixie, and she's likely to head to Albion. If you could, please have one of the musketeers to follow her, and make sure she'd be safe," "It will be done," Henrietta giggled. "Thank you, Agnes. Apology if it could cause any trouble-" "Princess Henrietta!" Henrietta whirled around in surprise. Her mind catching, and recognizing the voice before her body could react. "Louise?" Agnes had already moved, standing in guard by her side, watching like a hawk as - yes, that was Louise approaching her. My, what a coincidence! "Louise!" her b. "What are you doing here?" Louise paused. She was huffing, Henrietta noticed. A slight reddening on her cheeks. Part embarassment by the way her eyes glanced to Agnes, and partly from her question. She fidgeted. "Uhm, I was helping a Professor buying supplies for his class, Princess," she said, before curtseying. It didn't fit her, Henrietta decided. "Louise, please, no need for that. We're friends, aren't we?" The pink-haired girl flushed. "Uhm. Yes," she fidgeted. "Of course. But Princess, can I ask you a question?" Henrietta giggled. "Of course," Then Louise pointed to her side. Or rather, to Trixie's illusion. "Can you tell me where it's going?" there was something in her eyes, Henrietta noticed, and she didn't miss the desperation in her voice. The princess narrowed her eyes, frowning in concern. "What's the matter, Louise? And it? Do you know Trixie?" "Well, I don't know its gender, so…" Louise trailed off, blinking. "And Trixie? That's its name? Wait!" Another flush on her cheeks as she shook her head. "Uhm. I think it - she's my Familiar," Henrietta blinked. Suddenly, all those theories about Trixie being a spy, or something or the other crashed, and crumbled. "Pardon?" Louise ducked her head, as though trying to make her small. Well, smaller. "Uhm. Well, I haven't casted the Familiar Bond, yet, but yeah, I summoned her." "Your human doppelganger?" Henrietta pondered aloud. She had remembered vaguely of a Human Familiar in some fairy tale, but one that looked nearly identical to the Summoner? "No!" Louise almost shouted, before wincing. She shook her head furiously, head swivelling about. For a moment, Henrietta recalled that time when she had told Louise a dark secret. Only it looked as though the role had been switched. "She's a Unicorn, Princess," she said quietly. "One that's especially adept with Wind Magic." A pause. "Or Illusions, to be precise," "Ah," Henrietta stopped, and gazed into Trixie's Illusion. Illusion. And she wasn't human. That would explain why the girl was shy with physical contacts, and why she had always used that levitation magic of hers - or why her magic was different. The Princess liked to pride in her composure, but even this was a bit too much. This was something that you would to the Church. A Unicorn, of all things! A Myth whose only witness was Brimir himself! The symbol of Purity! Not that she was going to do that. Involving the Church would mean involving Louise, and though she knew that it was inevitably due to the girl's heritage, Henrietta would like to avoid that for the time being. "I see," the Princess nodded. Trixie was a Unicorn. Suddenly, the Louise lookalike had jumped up at her list of priorities. Louise nodded, before she grimaced. Lips tightening. "You didn't answer my question, Princess Henrietta - do you know-" "I think I do," Henrietta cut off gently. Louise rocked. Hope bloomed from the desperation in her eyes. In that moment, Henrietta found herself hesitating. Then the answer escaped her lips. ()_()_() Colbert clenched his fists. Something was smoldering inside him. Something foreign - something he had never expected to feel again. It was the same feeling he had felt long time ago. Reignited, and stronger twice as much. "Professor, please allow me to go!" the girl had bowed deep. It felt uncomfortable, being the recipient of such. But Colbert kept his composure strong. "No, Miss Valli - Louise. Albion is in the midst of a Rebellion, and discounting the fact that you still need to study, I will not let a student of mine to just die - " "And is it any different if I stay, Professor?" there was bitterness in her eyes as she met his eyes, anger in her voice. Colbert almost flinched - a memory long buried resurfaced. A young man seeking to prove something to the world. Him. "I am a Failure as a Mage, Professor. A Zero, and don't you try saying otherwise; you know it to be truth. I know you have said that there are other ways to prove my worth as a Noble, then tell me how, Professor?" Colbert was a wizened man. He had faced against the worst of Humanity. He was one of the worst of Humanity. He had experienced War, and Peace. He knew them like it was the back of his hand. Yet he couldn't rightly answer. Her voice was quiet. Barely a whisper, yet it sounded like thunderclaps in his ears. "I can't fight. I can't cast spells. I am a third daughter. I am a spot of shame in my family history, Professor. My Mother is Karin of the Heavy Wind. Father was a great General of large renown. Eleanore, strict as she may be, is a succesful Triangle Mage teaching in Oriz Magic Academy. Cattleya herself, sickly though she is, is a capable Triangle Mage, while her affinity with animals are beyond incredible. While I, Professor? I'm nothing compared to them…" He realized that there were tears leaking from her eyes. Hair shrouded her darkened expression as her shoulders shook. "So please, Professor. This is the only way I could prove myself," Colbert gnashed his teeth. Guilt, anger, and hatred coalescing together into one sickly beast. His stomach twisted, and turned. He had promised that he would always keep his composure - to leave his past, and never allowed to let it affect his judgement. And yes, in the end, it was an error of judgement. The red baleful eyes of the Amulet stared back at him. He didn't know why he was holding it, but it felt fitting. Baleful eyes full of accusation. Condemnation, disdain, and disgust. You sent a student to her death with pride. Do you feel proud now, Professor? And he did. Sent his student to death, that is. It was a mistake. A slip of control of his emotion. A face of a young man from the past. Scouring around the world to find a way to prove himself. He had, and he regretted that action ever since. She's going to die, and it's going to be your fault, Colbert. All your fault. Like always. Seems so familiar, doesn't it? He had thought he had been able to keep that from resurfacing. He had thought wrong. He had never been this emotional, before. A dry chuckle escaped his lips. He supposed it wasn't going to be the first time he would be wrong. Are you going to stay here? Doing nothing? What? Are you going to send another student to their death again? Repeat the same mistake over, and over? His feet had already moved before his mind had registered it. The door of his room swung open, and the silent hallway welcomed him. He ignored it, and made his way. The sun was beginning to sink, casting a tinge of orange within the horizon, filtered through the windows. A leisure walk turned into a jog, and then a full-blown run as he neared his destination. The Headmaster's Office. He had done a great mistake. Last time he had done so, he ran away. This time, he was going to fix it. "C-Colbert?!" Osmond squawked, and jumped a good centimeters off his chair as Colbert slammed the door open. "You nearly gave me a heart-!" "Osmond," he cut in sharply. Heart beating so hard, it may as well explode an artery or two. The surprise was still there, but the facade of a foolish old man slipped off. "I am finally requesting to use those accumulated vacation days," he hadn't counted how much it was he had accumulated, but it should be enough. "Six months?! Yeah, that should be more than enough. Vaguely, Colbert recalled a saying he had often loved to say in the past. What was it again? He remembered. In for a livre, in for an ecu. The fact that this meant he wouldn't be the one writing the letter to the Valliere was a bonus. Hah. When was the last time he had felt this alive?