[Her scoff of outrage—oh must they?—is hardly any more subtle. But there, halfway up the next rickety row of stairs, Wysteria does indeed draw short once more. This time when she whirls back around to face her Hangers-on, the elbow she clips Val with seems slightly intentional.]

I intend to get my things, [she hisses at a volume that almost certainly reaches the old woman lingering in the foyer to eavesdrop, and must serve to alert whomever this Maejyr might be to their impending presence.]

I've one or two dresses that will suit myself and a few of the other ladies of Riftwatch and I mean to gather them from my room here.

[The sharp look she splits between the two of them has the glint of a challenge lingering under all this distress. Mind your expressions, gentlemen, or she will kick someone down the stairs. Or throw herself over the railing.]