“Handy, mon ami, did you ever think of the practicality of your situation?” Jacques replied, openly polishing his rapier on the table as he flashed the barmaid a smile as she levitated over their drinks and a small plate of some strange dried seaweed and some fruit Handy didn’t recognise. It smelled good. She gave him a knowing look and smile before turning off. He could’ve sworn he saw Thorax shoot her an ugly glance before returning to her neutral expression. Must’ve sensed something. Changelings.