*can't help but think that if this were the good old days, his third-in-command would be a soldier snapped to stiff attention right about now (yes sir, no sir), instead of a sassy civilian lipping off* *and then follows the wry acknowledgement that he likes Órë's variety, and he can't have it both ways*
*not that you could read any of that in his face, which remains set and grim* *softly* Using the tickets Ecthelion gave her, you mean. *doesn't even need an answer to that* So what you're telling me, essentially, is that you took advantage of our Lord's good will—and your position as Third of the Fountain, I expect, considering the magnitude of this— *gestures tightly in the direction of the living room* —stunt, in order to publicly humiliate another House Lord. Does that about sum it up, Mrs. Tremblay?