Courfeyrac

 
Courfeyrac had come to Bossuet and Joly's room many hours ago. Now, it occurs to him that perhaps he should attempt to remember why, because the purpose is bound to be important, or at least will distract from the cherubs glaring down at him with what he's sure is reproach.

'Who are you to judge?' he tells them, a bottle of something clutched to his chest. 'Why, you of all Heaven's being are sure to know what it is not your place; save it, dear children, and allow me to-'

...wait, he has forgotten. Is this absinthe? He squints at the label, and then holds it up in the air.

'Bossuet, what are we drinking?'