"Oh thank you!" Artemisia paused in her storytelling to take a sip of her newly delivered tea. She blowed on the liquid's surface before taking a very loud slurp. "So where was I?" she asked once she'd placed the cup back on the table.
"The show was cancelled during the interval," Margerie prompted. "Due to the star singer being spirited away."
"Yes, that!" Artemisia said, pointing a claw at her assistant before turning back to Bartholomew and Marian. "Obviously, being the first at the scene before any sort of law enforcement or paparazzi, it was imperative we got access to the backstage area for anyone else. See, while I appreciate the speculative efforts of others, it is unfortunately not uncommon to find certain aspects compromised by less talented investigators long before I've had a chance to-" Just as she was hitting her stride, the squad of fairy soldiers made their way through the doors and began exercising their authority upon the inn staff and patrons. The words froze in Artemisia's throat, and she suddenly looked a little sheepish, hoping none of them have overheard what she was saying.
She wasn't the only one either. The moment Bartholomew started shouting, Margerie also adopted an uncomfortable expression (not to mention, her cheeks starting to flush slightly when her father mentioned the praise she had had for Artie in her letters). The younger Boggart made a not-inconspicuous effort to hide behind her cider as the conversation continued.
It wasn't long before Lieutenant D'Arcy made his way over their table, in which he began scrutinizing each member of Artie's company before his eyes landed on Artie herself. Flustered and more than a little worried that his attention on them was because of her, she quickly tried to speak. "Oh, err, I can assure you, ah, sir, that neither me nor my company are involved in whatever it is you and you, ah, fine officers are investigating." She leans on the table in attempt to appear casual. "Err, if you don't mind me asking, because I couldn't help overhearing, what exactly makes you so certain the perpetrator you are searching for is a boggart?"
"The show was cancelled during the interval," Margerie prompted. "Due to the star singer being spirited away."
"Yes, that!" Artemisia said, pointing a claw at her assistant before turning back to Bartholomew and Marian. "Obviously, being the first at the scene before any sort of law enforcement or paparazzi, it was imperative we got access to the backstage area for anyone else. See, while I appreciate the speculative efforts of others, it is unfortunately not uncommon to find certain aspects compromised by less talented investigators long before I've had a chance to-" Just as she was hitting her stride, the squad of fairy soldiers made their way through the doors and began exercising their authority upon the inn staff and patrons. The words froze in Artemisia's throat, and she suddenly looked a little sheepish, hoping none of them have overheard what she was saying.
She wasn't the only one either. The moment Bartholomew started shouting, Margerie also adopted an uncomfortable expression (not to mention, her cheeks starting to flush slightly when her father mentioned the praise she had had for Artie in her letters). The younger Boggart made a not-inconspicuous effort to hide behind her cider as the conversation continued.
It wasn't long before Lieutenant D'Arcy made his way over their table, in which he began scrutinizing each member of Artie's company before his eyes landed on Artie herself. Flustered and more than a little worried that his attention on them was because of her, she quickly tried to speak. "Oh, err, I can assure you, ah, sir, that neither me nor my company are involved in whatever it is you and you, ah, fine officers are investigating." She leans on the table in attempt to appear casual. "Err, if you don't mind me asking, because I couldn't help overhearing, what exactly makes you so certain the perpetrator you are searching for is a boggart?"