And perhaps it's inevitable that he ends up here. His head's still reeling and he's not sure what he's about. More than anything, he needs to feel pinned down in the universe. He needs to feel certain about his place in something. So he goes to Priestly, prepared to explain himself if neecessary.

Basically, he just needs to feel comforted.
He doesn't care if it's selfish.

It continues to circle around in his head. Anahuraue, the Sapa Inca herself, is standing there in all her finery, as lovely as she has been for every single day since he found himself back here. In the corner of his eye, he can see Laurence and the others. He tries hard not to think about what passed between them, but it's difficult - it's difficult not to dwell on how quiet he felt and how safe, for a handful of moments. It had helped him realise that he could change things. That certain things were not necessarily written.

He dwells on that for a moment and, before he entirely knows what he's doing, he reaches up with his good hand, fumbling with the clasp of the red cloak and letting it drop, heavy, to the floor.

"No," he says, quietly. "Not this time."

One moment, they're having breakfast and Granby's in the middle of lifting his coffee cup to his lips and then next moment he blinks and finds himself standing in a vast stone hall, and the ache in his shoulder is back. And there she is, crowned in wedding finery - the Sapa Inca in a dress of yellow and red, shot through with gold, her crown of silver and gold and long feathers.

And it's done. He's married to her, with barely a word to say. Of course, there wouldn't be a word to say, not when he can barely say ten words together that she'd understand.

It's late by the time he finds himself at Laurence's door, clad in shirt and breeches, his wounded arm against his chest. He knocks, leaning his forehead against the frame and thankfully, for now, that he's managed to avoid Iskierka, even though catching a glimpse of her was like a balm on something that he didn't know was burning.

"For the love of God, Laurence," he hisses. "Would you let me in?"