[There is something in Wysteria's face that pinches, drawing thin in further displeasure. Oh, how terrible it must be to be Byerly Rutyer, a head of Riftwatch and a perennial nuisance to anyone and everyone so long as he pleases, and offended by the remarks of single individual more or less under his charge.

So surely it is only thanks to Alexandrie citing herself as the favor's recipient that Wysteria at last deigns to say—]

I have no need of your ambassadorial services, powerful though I'm certain they are, as to my knowledge I have surrendered the matter into Mister Rutyer's hands entirely. However, [Spoken like ugh.] if you believe it will somehow alleviate your own concerns then I can hardly refuse you.

[With a plink from the dishware, she sets her cup aside.]

Tell me—What do you know already?