Yseult nods, and turns back to the sideboard to see to pitchers of tea and water and wine, a few remaining chunks of ice clinking against crockery and then glass. It takes her a minute to get them all sorted, and she hands off two glasses to Thranduil, conveniently near, and the fourth to Benedict, keeping for herself the glass of wine she'd poured at the start.

"There," she says, returning to her desk and this time taking a seat behind it. She takes a sip of wine and then folds her hands. "Yes, she found the demands of the position straining after so long and chose to step down. Commander Flint has proven an able replacement and should be treated to the same respect."