She did not seem at all fazed by the fact that Emrys might have had plans other than entertaining a spoiled child all morning, but he supposed that was fairly characteristic of spoiled children. It was quite in character for her to pull out a chair and sit without being invited, as though she owned the place, too — so much so that he didn't think to try and stop her until it was too late. She'd sighted Christobal, and was understandably alarmed to find a strange man lurking under the breakfast table. When she screamed Emrys could do little but fix a panicked gaze on the artist's face — but recovered quickly, as he knew he would have to do if there was any chance of salvaging the situation.

"Oh, Christobal, you've startled the poor girl," he said smoothly, pushing his own chair out from the table to give Christobal space to crawl out, if he so chose. "What were you doing down there? Cleaning, I suppose? You might have handled it just as well with a spell, I should think, though perhaps you know better than I do — you are the butler, after all," he said, hoping Christobal would just roll with the new charade using the clues Emrys was dropping for him. "But come on out now, won't you, and put it aside until after I've finished my breakfast, at least."