"So she has said," he replied, "but I assure you, she hardly needs spying on. She's a very determined and reliable young lady, with the stress on the 'young' part. I was very impressed by her."

"Well, I think she impresses most people." Again, Marcello conveniently opened a door onto a friendly-looking niche with two upholstered and a small table. "Good neighbor, house," he said cheerily as he dropped to sit on the corned of one of the benches and uncorked the wine. "It's just that it's usually an impression of the intimidated kind. I don't think she needs spying on, either. But I do worry about her, being so out of her element here and all. She was extremely angry that we dragged her away from her studies."

The corner of his mouth barely twitched. "To hear her talk, she was only disappointed to be dragged away because of you. But that is a subject that the two of you should have between you. I'll not put myself in family politics."

"I wouldn't want you to," Marcello assured him, as he handed over a cup. "Our family's big enough as it is, and we just added a sea witch and an extremely grouchy former revolutionary to the mix. And I've spoken to her about it already. She's not exactly quick to forgive or change her opinions." He shrugged. "I apologized and pointed her toward our bard. I think that's as much as I can do. Anyway, I wasn't trying to drag you off to talk about her. I wanted to get to know you. More informally, as it were. And I suspect it would be good for diplomatic relations, even if my sister didn't figure into the mix."

He took the cup, with a sly smile at Marcello. "Ah. Of course. I think you might be better off starting with getting to know Her Majesty; she's the social butterfly of our circle. As much as she can be, anyway."

"Yes, well, unfortunately, she's indisposed, so I have to settle for the next best thing," Marcello answered apologetically. "And you're the one who does most of the traveling, aren't you? And, you know, accidentally getting thrown in cells in Oireachteigh."

"I'll confess, I was feigning most of that indignation. We expected it was going to happen." He put his nose into the winecup, with onloy a faint air of real suspicion. "The trouble is, I do very little traveling here, as the last time I visited your queen she had me beaten and clapped in irons and Her Majesty had to pay to get me back again."

Marcello grimaced. "I assume that was the old Queen," he replied. "I think the new Queen's idea of punishing her enemies is feeding them jam tarts until they get sick. We are going to need to improve those relations. And I suspect I might be the person getting sent North, at least for the near future. Which is strange for being a complete outsider, but I think I understand your government better than most of the people around here."

"So said your sister; she grasped a lot of it too, the little we spoke with her about it." He eyed Marcello. "We have not had many humans in the north, not for ages. I am wondering how well it will go over. The fact that you're a Niall may ease your way some."

"That was my main concern, too, and I was going to ask you that, but I suppose now I don't have to," Marcello replied. "Although I'm technically a Dowd. My title is 'His Ferocity,'" he added, with much amusement. "Is that usually the title for Earls? I'm having trouble not snorting wine out my nose every time anyone uses it, although I suspect that will calm down after the wedding festivities and people can go back to 'my lord' or something less hilariously inaccurate."