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[hr][h2]Core District, near the Eiffel Tower[/h2][/center][hr]
Everything was going according to plan as the distance closed and her sword drew near the enemy… Until that happened. The careful planning, if one could call something nigh instinctual planning, was all wasted in a tiny fraction of second as the enemy servant took that wide step to the side and brought his weapon around, and instantly changed every rule of their engagement with this new revelation. 

Her eyes flew wide as she gasped a single word. "[color=6ecff6]Lancer![/color]"

d’Artagnan’s intention, to make use of superior swordplay to overwhelm and disarm the enemy, became instantly null as Lancer showed his true colors and more than doubled his reach. Of course fighting around something like that was well with her capabilities as saber, if she had known about it before commiting to a charge. Sadly horses don’t quite turn on a dime, and the introduction of that reach coupled with the lack of precise maneuverability made what happened an entirely foregone conclusion.

Saber flew from the saddle with a start as one of the legs was cut from beneath her mount, tumbling through the air with a look of shock and embarrassment plastered across her face. By the time she hit the ground it had turned into anger outright, and a new plan of action. 

Her sprawling roll ended in a composed kneel, with her musket drawn and trained on…. Nothing.He was gone by the time she had righted herself. With a look of anger she cast the musket aside, vanishing into thin air along with her now maimed mount as it was dismissed.

“[color=6ecff6]....UGH! You cowardly old man! I take back everything nice I sad about you! You would deny me satisfaction in my own land? I won’t tolerate you spitting on the honor of house Castelmore! Not anywhere and certainly not here![/color]” She shouted into the night until her voice cracked, before turning on heel and storming off, back towards, or rather past, her master and his entourage and towards their atelier.

This did not stop her from placing an arm around Ceres shoulder however, nor Venus waist. She was not nearly so wroth as to forget herself that totally. “[color=6ecff6]Please excuse my outburst ladies, something of a… principle matter. I am prone to being over-passionate about things.[/color]”
  
[hr][center][i][b]Returning Home[/b][/i] [@ssw][@sunglass][@ManyThings][/center]