The measured neutrality that is raised in opposition to her indignation is enough to make her falter. Malicious words die on her tongue as her amber eyes cloud with confusion. The apology elicits a rather surprised snort from paper thin nostrils as her eyes narrow in suspicion. What game does this boy play? Her thoughts stay confined within her mind but they demand that she assesses the stranger before her. The sheer bulkiness of this new stallion causes her to almost - but not quite - visibly shrink back in an effort to maintain a safe distance. He towers above her in stature and the broadness of him is ironic compared to her still too-lean frame.

While she is pitying herself for standing well within his shadow, his next words fan the flames of her anger once more. "What queen?" The tone of the question matches the fiery words from before, yet this time her heart sinks within her chest. The longing to pluck the question out the air is immense - Anne can already sense that the answer will bring only further displeasure. Perhaps she should have known that man such as Jaskier would already be claimed by another. She commands her face to stony indifference even as her lungs feel deflated and breathing has become a struggle - What if Jaskier was false with her - what if there was someone else? His last question falls upon ears that might as well have been deaf from the incessant ringing that plagues her as she spirals downward once more toward despair.

The feminine nicker of the approaching mare rips Anne's piercing gaze from the brute before her. A wry laugh escapes her lips after Parvati has spoken her piece. "I see this place does not just take captives - they let their own be stolen away as well." She shakes her well refined head in exasperation, irritation flooding her eyes as the anxiety surrounding this blow to Jaskier's character circles Anne like a voracious shark.