Mereavus had no intention of trying to calm the man down. Men had a habit of shooting the messenger when it came to that sort of thing, and she had no intention of getting in the way.<br/><br/>"I hadn't thought to, your Majesty," she answered to the mention of it. Being here was apparently futile, so she didn't bother to consider wasting her time much longer. He could rage around all he wanted, that was his right. "I shall go and assembly the court, since you have no need of me."<br/><br/>To which she turned, and began to head off in the general direction of the Throne Room. God only knew who was there already - she assumed the guards were. She carried on walking until she reached the double doors, which were opened for her by said guards in advance of her stepping into the room. She prepared herself for it; did she know anything, had she received a letter, was the Empress simply in some fuckhole with a pretty pleb, was she delayed by a storm?<br/><br/>She had nothing new to tell them. She looked tense, but that was hardly surprising. 'Duchess', indeed, the man couldn't even summon up enough decency to say 'Your Grace'.<br/><br/><em>Good.</em><br/><br/>She naturally gravitated towards Ysena - who looked just about as wretched as everyone else felt.<br/><br/>"Captain," she greeted quietly.