Marigold twitches. On one hand, she's eager for the gossip! On the other hand, must they use pigeons? Such dirty creatures, even if the fae bred ones are marvelous colors and seem perfectly clean and trained, they still trigger a "Shoo!" reflex in the boggan steward.
Finally she settles on a cloth over the window sill and some bread crumbs set up there to tempt them to a PROPER spot - she can wash that later.
Scones and sandwiches and hot drinks set out in the parlor as those left behind find excuses to stop in and check the news.
---
Linnea and Danica exchange glances - half twin conversation, half Troll language. A raised brow, a small frown, hint of a shrug. Will Calanthe come back pleased and gloating on her win? Or sullen and angry on the loss? There's generally no fifty-fifty with her.
___
Julius looks up from the stack of paperwork he is flying through. "Yes yes, Hawking. But the DANCE! How did Bluebell do?"
"Hmm-mmm.... possible sabotage on the archery competition.... Oh, and here's an interesting note about one of the food vendors..." Marigold sifts through the notes slowly and precisely. The Satyr groans. "Now you're just teasing me, Mari."
She gives him a smile and refills his coffee. "News is still coming in, we'll hear back soon enough. Oh, and nothing on the crime blotters - looks like Gwen is keeping Briar well in hand - or at least, otherwise entertained. I don't know how we did without that sweet girl." Fond.
---
"Lass, any word from the races?" Dolph, fresh from the stables and smelling of hay, stops in and reaches for a scone only to have his hand lightly swatted. "Wash up first, and then have a cuppa while we catch you up."
Refilling the snacks, they gossip and wait!