"I am a mage. I am not your dear, they are not my slaves." Some manner of declaration beyond that is probably required. Something about them being from the Inquisition, that they ought to stand down, surrender, and tell them where the captured rifters might be. That is the diplomatic approach. That is the just, knightly approach- but knightly is Herian's shtick and Adelaide is long past the point of patience for diplomacy for people she likes, let alone peoples she has at swordpoint. Someone else can explain nobility and heroic intent.

All but trembling with tightly wound anger, frost taking over where tension has her still as stone, a vengeful figure carved of marble, ice fogs the blade and chills the steel where it meets his skin. Voice a low, dangerous rumble she murmurs. "I do not repeat myself, so I ask this once: where is my brother? Where is my wolf?"