Nathan looked around for Abia, but for once, she was nowhere to be seen.  A tearful damsel required a woman's touch, not the ham-fisted efforts of an old soldier.  Since he had no handkerchief, he walked over to the bar for a cloth napkin to hand Vixaria to dry her eyes.  Sitting across from her once more, he took a long sip of his coffee and brandy, once again considering her situation.<br/><br/>"I see two courses of action here, my lady, other than the course your father has in mind.  One choice is to flee to some remote area where no one, not even your father, would think to look for you.  The other choice is to change your appearance so much that those who know you would no longer recognize you.  And then blend into some small town off the main roads."<br/><br/>In either case, you would need to wear clothing that's less conspicuous.  The clothing of a peasant rather than a lady of means.  A change of hair style and hair color might be needed as well.  Whether you flee to a remote location far away or settle down in a small village such as this, the first question your pursuers will ask anyone they encounter is "Have you seen a blonde in a cloak of white and gold riding a large stallion?"  And then they'll ask "Which direction did you see her go?"  Vixaria, if you make yourself less memorable to the people along your route . . . . . or wherever you stay, you make it harder for your pursuers to follow you or find you."<br/><br/>Vixaria was beautiful.  Which to Nathan meant it was going to take a lot of work to make her plain enough that her friends wouldn't recognize her.  Once again, that would require a woman's touch, such as Abia's.  Though whether Abia, a lovely young lady herself, would know how to turn a beauty into a plain-Jane, Nathan wasn't sure.