"Getting scared, mistress?" Gertrude asked Fanilly, grinning, "I don't blame you. If we go in, we may leave babbling inanity like that dotard, or we may not leave at all. Not all of us have methods to defend ourselves. What we do from here is your call, but the wellbeing of both the Duke and our order depends on your command."

Gertrude frowned at Fionn as he opened his big, stupid mouth.

"The woman is daffy, won't stop talking about patting my head like a small child or confusing convenient contracts with marriage certificates. I'll let her leave if you promise she won't touch-"

But Tyaethe was already breaking the circle, and Gertrude clicked her tongue as the Niyar flopped out of the containment area and onto her husband.

"And what exactly do you know about magic, you wee mosquito?" she growled at Tyaethe, "aside from brute-forcing your whims onto reality? Might as well be a little fairy princess yourself, the way you treat the subject."

She looked back to Fionn, then back to Tyaethe, then shrugged and grabbed a couple of tiny fruit tarts. She popped one into her mouth, and offered another to the Niyar.

"I won't say it's a terrible idea, lout, but if this Moonlit Queen sees Fiadh as competition, it may not end well. If we bring something or other as tribute, however, we may find her amenable to a noble alliance. Faeries are fond of gifts, after all," she demonstrated, offering more sweets to Fiadh.