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Siaenach looked around her with a silent curse, before looking after the Marukhati member to make sure she hadn't lost him as well.

Dammit, I'll tear out his throat if I must, knife or no knife, she thought as she bounded after him.

Sebastien, who had maintained a leisurely but observant stroll through the various small groups of talkers, swept his eyes over the commotion occurring around the rest of the Chosen and shifted his frown from one cheek to the next. He did not think Feather-Tail would appreciate his direct approach given their sour history, and he decided, seeing no choice otherwise, that Nzuri and Florian would be able to hold their own.

So, shouldering past a member of the court who he decided was in his way, the Breton threw his lot in with his adopted daughter and her lover, starting after the Reachwoman with his eyes on "General" Feather-Tail and those around him, a hand on the hilt of his sword.

Wulija arrived at Feather-Tail's location. "General," She spoke in a hushed tone. "I would speak with you. Alone, please." Meanwhile the Marukhati agent had seemingly disappeared.

Alarmed by Wulija's approach, Feather-Tail's pulse increased. Recalling the nuances of his deception, he placed his hands behind his back as to signal his scattered protectors.

"Very well, Duchess," Feather-Tail shortly agreed. Despite the inherent danger of compliance with Wulija, Feather-Tail had resolved that an isolated Duchess, presuming his companions' dedicated assistance, would be the surest means of resolving the group's delicate predicament.

"Please, follow me. I know somewhere where we can talk." Wulija put her arm around Feather-Tail and led him down behind a large statue of a robed Argonian holding a staff. She waved and greeted friends loudly as they walked, making her perfectly They were alone behind the statue. "My friend, I wish to look upon your face. Remove your helmet, please."