[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/190811/ebaf9cbdde92c7897e853938cfe68fe5.png[/img] [color=6E8E67]Location:[/color] Winton[/center][hr][hr] Fatima sipped her drink and listened carefully to the barmaid. She noted down the meager directions she gave her and quirked an eyebrow upward with interest when she told her not to mention her name. Lady Alice, eh? And the woman she was sending her to was, in not some small way, close to the Queen. Well, so to speak. It was unknown whether the great Lady Alice would deign to give her time to some plant pusher. Fatima simply smiled and paid the woman for the drink. [color=6E8E67]"Thank you kindly, I'll keep that in mind."[/color] She spoke with good humor in her voice. She turned as a row began between Faeril and Gennar. Fatima's smile turned to a frown as she watched, listened, and attempted to understand what the argument was about exactly. She absently leaned down to pat Dunny on his cute, fluffy head - as if to assure him that all was well despite the voices becoming raised. The end of the argument left Fatima feeling like she too had been slapped, though none of it was directed at her. Fatima admittedly knew nothing about Faeril or that she may or may not have a son. She also didn't speak Eyrien. She did, however, understand loss, and felt passionately about the way Gen had decided to go about reminding their Widow of the impending loss of Thom. At least, she assumed that was what he was saying. Not the place. Not the time. Not that she, herself was famous for her supreme tact. She did feel for the woman though; Gen's harshness striking discordant cords on her soul. With a grim line pressed into her lips, she approached the group and looked between the four Eyriens. [color=6E8E67]"May I ask why we chose to have this particular conversation here? In front of the whole Inn?"[/color] she asked with patience pulled so taught that a wrong answer was sure to break it. One could practically hear the twang of that wire plucked in the notes of her voice. [color=6E8E67]"And why, exactly, you felt it necessary that Faeril hear that particular set of words in that particular tone of voice in this particular instance in front of near as well as complete strangers?"[/color] Her cold gaze was turned to Gennar now. She was not a pleased little Queen, quite evident in her posture and the ice dripping from her words.