Marigold leans in, in proper gossip mode. "My lady, what you must try to see here is that there is no clear right or wrong, as frustrating as that may be. I spoke with Bluebell, and chatted with Sir Treyvon - no one gets through my home without stopping for a bite and a sip."
She pauses for a sip of tea. "I admit, he is not my most beloved guest. A bit too ruthless, too glory hungry a fellow, for all that he's courteous and polite. But yes, Bluebell DID volunteer herself, and was not coerced into it. That is to say, not overtly. He did not use magic nor strength of arm, but simple reasoning to compel her. My understanding is that it was his relating of how the beast was lurking already on the outskirts of the mortal realm, simply awaiting a compelling enough reason to break free. Should one not be provided, as he did with his trap, then it would have been another time, another target. Likely, one much less capable of defending themselves. A childling, a fledge, a kinain, perhaps even a dreamer."