They all tensed at her movement, reacting in different ways. Margaux’s hand hovered over the panel of her chair, the fair-haired person swayed back a step to stand behind a larger one. Orfeus thought she even heard the rustling of fabric behind her as Rivasoa, too, moved in readiness for … something. Orfeus couldn’t think what, and then she said, slowly, “That gesture isn’t keyed to any Blood functions, I was moving just to move. Do you think I’d come in and launch an offensive?” None of them looked any less wary. A laugh bubbled up in her at the sheer ridiculousness of it all, and she let it come cresting out her mouth great and mocking and triumphant. “Ha! You think I’m going to mount an assault on your city singlehanded?” She strode forward. Three of the council members, or whatever other high-ranking people they were, stepped back. Margaux stayed where she was.

Orfeus halted. “I’m not first and foremost a combatant, and that’s why I came here,” she said. “I was attacked. I’m looking for information.”

A grave-looking Elder who hadn’t spoken yet put their hands on their hips. “Sharing information is why we’re here,” they said, seemingly to the others.

The one with long fair flicked their hair impatiently. “True, Latafale, but look at her. She seems a troublemaker.”

“Amande is not incorrect,” Margaux said. Orfeus bristled.

“If you aren’t going to help me, tell me that and I’ll leave,” she said. “We none of us are given as much time on this Honoured Earth as we would like.” Some more than others. “I have better things to spend mine on.”

“You’ll leave, will you?” said a large person standing a little behind Margaux, six foot tall at least with what looked like a duelling sword tucked into their belt.

Orfeus’s eyes hooked on to the sword. She laughed again, incredulously.

“Othmar doesn’t mean to threaten you,” Margaux said, and Orfeus covered another laugh with her hand.

“Good,” she said. “That would be a bad threat.” She looked the bulky person in the eyes. “I’ve been threatened better just this week by a puppy.”

Othmar crossed their arms, glowering. Orfeus grinned sparkling and bright. Good to know she’d lost none of her gift for annoying people. But really, with a healing wound on her back and a drag to her breath, with the spectre of the Wolf stalking through her mind, nothing these people said had the slightest chance of scaring her.

“Be sensible, singer,” Margaux said. She looked tired. “Whatever abilities you’ve taught yourself, and I do not scorn them, you can’t match five people from Eldergrove, or even any one of us. We use the power in the Blood our ancestors gave us to its fullest effect. We live long lives in this peaceful place. We strive to make the world more beautiful and more wise.”