Enjolras looked up at Orka. "Give me the antidote." He commanded in a dark tone.
"It'll cost you my dear."
His quicksilver eyes narrowed. "What is the price?" Enjolras asked coldly.
"You are."
"What?" Enjolras blinked. "I'm afraid I don't understand."
"I never had a son…or a daughter for that matter." Orka said with a dry laugh.
"Ah?"
"I have a little bit of that potion left. I wish for you to drink it and remain with me as my son." Orka said firmly.
Enjolras felt nauseated and yet oddly relieved. "I…I…"
Orka eyed Enjolras disdainfully. "Or, I would settle for one of your friends. That little one with glasses is quite adorable."
"You can't have Combeferre." Enjolras found his voice again. "I agree to your bargain, Madame." He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment. "How quickly does it work? Would I have time to get my affairs in order?"
"Time enough, I am certain."
Orka gathered up her basket and put her paper of sweets inside it along with a small bottle and a tin cup. "I will come with you and help you." She said patting his arm. "I wouldn't want my investment to run off."
Enjolras' lips twitched but he did not comment.