When are you from; it was becoming a normal question to Porthos, by now. That, in itself, should be slightly worrying, but Porthos did like to take most things in stride. (Most things. Some things got his blood boiling in a heartbeat.)

"1631," Porthos replied, and even added, helpfully, "Paris." And if there was something of a questioning lilt to the name, it was because he'd found out that not everyone here even knew Paris. That was perhaps the oddest of all.