Oh, it is on. You can insult Guillaume in many ways, but to insult his clothes? How very dare you?! And then Church insults his dick. That's pretty bad too. The anger boils inside him as he shifts around, looking for an opening. He resembles a tea kettle that's about to start whistling because the water is boiling hot. No one should be surprised if steam shoots out his ears next. For a good twenty seconds, he paces back and forth like a caged animal, just out of reach of Church's rapier as his anger grows and he looks for the one misstep, that one fraction of an inch of Church that's unprotected and where he can jab in before the man can react. And finally, all at once, the floodgates collapse.

"You cretin!" he yells, lashing out at him until a voice pierces the air and startles him.

"CHURCH! What are you doing?"

Guillaume jumps at the shout and turns, seeing the horrified face of the woman who can only be Christine Delacroix because she resembles her mother that much. Fumbling for a second, Guillaume clears his throat and lowers his sword arm, not realizing he's leaving himself completely vulnerable. But this is the first time he's set eyes on Christine, and the first time she's seeing him, so he wants to make a good first impression. Maker, is he sweating? He doesn't want her to see him perspire. And what about his bruised jaw? Is it swelling badly? Will she notice?

"Ah, Mademoiselle Delacroix! I did not expect--" But his voice dies away as she turns her eyes from Church to him and her expression of worry is replaced with one of furious anger.

Uh oh.