I slid over towards the Master, letting the basic hum cover my footsteps and whisper, “Diego has let his frustrations out.”

A slight smirk from the Master, “Yes, he has.” He was as captivated by the stare-down as anyone in the room, not willing to break the silence that both men had stilled around them. Two wills battling on another more metaphysical plane let their effects in the room be known.

Long moments passed, as none of us were willing to break the silence, until finally Diego snorted and stepped away from the Monsieur, towards the exit, without a word. To his credit, there was no slamming of the door as he closed the backroom’s room behind him. There was a collective taking of breath as the Monsieur wordlessly held out his arm for Madame, who hurried to take it. She looked worriedly at the door for a few moments before being swept towards the front. I watched her leave with pursed lips, disappointed.

I looked back at the Master, who simply shrugged and said, “Such is business and politics.” Then he looked towards the press workers, voice bellowing, “We’ve got a Declaration to print!” Hands became instantly busy.

I faded into the background. Absently I walked into the backroom, but Diego was gone. He left quickly and disappointment filled me. Uncertainty as well. I shook it out of my head as I prepared Bonne Chance for my ride home.

In the night sky, the moon was almost full, a brilliant silver disk. I paused to gaze at it, then slow, misty clouds obscured it, creeping along its surface until it disappeared and the night was pitch supported by the occasional street lamp. A chill wind pierced my cloak and I mounted Bonne Chance, making my way down the alley.