It's also true that many of the fighters who do spar here do so out on the lawn, which is somewhat exhibitionist for Enjolras's tastes in a setting like this.

He nods -- Sam Wilson from America; he'll remember that name -- and absently pushes his hair off his forehead, where it's sticking a little with exertion. (It somehow still manages to look good.)

"There may in fact be little need for us to stay in practice, but..." He shrugs, and gives Bahorel a wry glance. "All the same."

But it seems beyond foolish to deliberately let go of that edge, without the certainty it will never be needed.

(Also: but there's very little to do at Milliways, and less that's active.)