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The Fall Lord's eyes narrow, the lines about his mouth tightening. Minute signs of his displeasure. "Winter Fae. . . Rogue or with the Court?" He inquired steadily. Long fingers stroking the arm of the throne with a certain fondness as he thought. Below the girl was still strumming the harp lightly. Little wonder he told him not about the incident, nothing to be done about it. The incursion was mild if even that, and he doubted any real bait could be gain. But as the years had taught him, any and every lead was best followed and even the most unlikely option could turn the storm to his favor. Tapping his long fingers in a steady rhythm. "And who was this Fae who intervened?"