Enjolras would have been willing to stay here if Combeferre had really wanted to, but he's just as glad that's not the case. He doesn't much care to stay in a room so unrelentingly colorful with a broken toy horse in the middle of it.

"Let's."

Down the hall to room 212, which...

"No," Enjolras says, flatly and unnecessarily, at the sight of the fleur-de-lis set into the door in glass.

No cherubs, they said. No Bourbon emblems hadn't occurred to him as necessary to specify.