Well, that explains the fear he'd shown. D'Artagnan sighs, feeling unwilling sympathy. He needs to put aside the strangeness of all of this. The bottom line is, no matter who this man looks like, he's an Ambassador of the Inquisition, and he's in trouble here. If he looked like anyone else, d'Artagnan wouldn't even have needed to be asked.

So, all right. He pulls the hood of his cape up over his head.

"A shame the invaders couldn't have sent you an aide before they ruined everyone's day. You ought to file a complaint. This way."

He puts his head down and weaves a firm trail through the crowd, which parts more readily when he stops saying please.