Enjolras has no intention of taking lessons in diplomacy from Javert. For some mysterious reason!

(He wouldn't expect that handcuffs, even these jointed future ones, would slip right off. But with magical ones bestowed as a dubious joke from Bar, who knows?)

"Madame Bar," he says, when they're near. He's mostly throttling down his irritation, but he can't help but sound tiredly unamused.

"If you please, how do we rid ourselves of these?"