"You're drunk," he may or may not mutter. It's hard to tell around all the teeth.

Anyway, that's not the point. The point is: "Really? That's what you're jumping to? Time travel? A second ago your theory was some magician posing as your doppelganger. Which I shouldn't have to tell you is absurd. No magician in their right, fat headed mind would ever stoop so low as to pretend to be a commoner like yourself. And for another thing--"

Here, he pauses. He'd been on the verge of saying that it couldn't be anyone but her. That the thing she's known from that wobbly pentacle had been too specific not to be. That he knew the strangeness of her aura. That no magician in countless centuries except one had ever even thought to ask about the guise of the Egyptian boy, never mind put so much thought into it.

But you know what? No. Come to think of it, he'd rather not talk about any of that. It's not as if she'd wanted to know for any good reason after all.

"F-for another thing, you shouldn't walk around with loose money in your pockets. You're practically asking to be robbed."