It is always disconcerting, dealing with a professional. Byerly is, frankly, much more accustomed to the lies and obfuscations of the game; he's used to dramatics and fits of passion. Plain-dealing like this almost itches. He almost craves hostility from her, rather than this straightforward coolness.

"A point of order." He lifts a finger. Even focused and professional, he is still a performer. He can't switch the clownishness off entirely - it's a natural part of him. He just dials it back. "If my reports come to you first, then the implication is that you would send them off. You understand why I would not wish for you to be delivering information in my name." A sigh, then, and he runs his fingers over his mustache. "And that request that I not speak of you, or any others...You see, I swore an oath to speak only truth, and the truth in full, to my Queen. That's dangerously close to oath-breaking, little goose."