He gratefully accepted the sanctuary offered by the wardrobe. He had a moment to assess his hiding place before she closed the door on him; it was full of corsetry and related underwear. Part of him couldn't help but laugh - he'd barely met her and already had his head in her corsets. He dared not even breath when he heard footsteps - whilst he had no direct personal experience of hiding from vengeful husbands or fathers, he could imagine that the the consequences of being found would be ... sub-optimal. Of all the voices he had expected to hear through the thin lacquered door, Orsini had not been one of them. The old jackal was rumoured to have more than just thumbs in most of the best pies in town.<br/><br/>"You can come out now"<br/><br/>And so he cautiously pressed the door open, half-expecting some house guards to be waiting for him with pikes at the ready. Fortunately, there weren't any. He emerged, shot his cuffs, and then reached back to extract his hat from where it had ended up, hooked on some kind of elaborate silken thing. He didn't put it on though, instead bowed.<br/><br/>"Lady Orsini. I thank you for shelter you've giv..." he paused in mid sentence as he heard the sound of someone climbing the wall outside.<br/><br/>"I thank you for the shelter, but I'd thank you more if you could pass me that candlestick. Yes, the heavy leaden one. Thank you, much obliged" He took position beside the window, makeshift club at the ready. "From the sound of it, I've intruded on you in a time of sorrow, and for that I can only beg your..."<br/><br/>The head of one of his pursuers poked in through the window, rapacious eyes on Neya.<i>If he wasn't going to find the King's man, this young woman would be...</i><b>THUD</b>. Etienne hit him savagely over the the back of the head, and hurried to pull the insensate body into her room.<br/><br/>"Indulgence, and I won't take up much more of your time." his quick fingers quickly searched the man, extracting not one but three knives, a cudgel, and a coin-purse full of local currency... ah. There it was. A crude-looking woodcut with his bounty on it. He held the image up next to his face; the crudely printed text read:<br/><br/>ETIENNE VALROUX: MUSKETEER, SPY. WANTED DEAD. 10 SOL.<br/><br/>"As my press reveals, I am a Musketeer of the Guard, but I am a little saddened at how little my life appears to be worth." he even made the traditional salute to her, but the gesture lost some of its elan when made with a candlestick. "But, it would be crude, ungallant, and not befitting my calling if I couldn't offer a lady such as yourself assistance in what sounds like your time of need. What's up?"<br/><br/>He then tipped the figure backwards out the window, where he landed with a clatter of conveniently-placed hay-wagon.