The elven girl's heart stuck in her throat at Lord Octa's first words and then soared as he completed his next.  The thought of not being rendered into dust was a massive relief.  Shaking visibly she nodded and curtsied.

"His majesty is...," she whispered, then decided against her own words, figuring it better she simply slip away.  Instead she simply added the assurance, "I shall not fail."

Dismissed she followed the Lord's personal guard, slipping quietly away and considered the options.  She would have preferred being escourted by the Lord's chamberlain.  He seemed more talkative and she could have used whatever information she might glean.  Still, at least she hadn't been slain.  There was every possibility she might even be able to spin this into a ladyship of her own if she played her cards right.  Just as much possibility that she'd only postponed her punishment.  It was difficult to say.  After all, Lord Octa's minions regularly played against one another.  They just did so via cat's paws and thus didn't contest quite so overtly.

Her next question was: Who was this Vatikar?  What sort of man or thing was he?  Could she win him over?  How loyal was he?  She certainly hoped he would be amenable.