His nostrils flare fractionally as you fight back an indignant scowl. The Princess hardly seems to note her subject's veiled insolence, however, and with a negligent flick of her feathered primaries, she addresses you in crisp Canterlot diction. "Very well. Let us repair inside these hallowed halls, knave." Her regal countenance offers no outward tells, though a slight furrow creases her brow. "There are matters requiring… further elucidation, as We have mentioned."