Greta raises her eyebrows and turns down the corners of her mouth in a deliberate and not very successful attempt to hide a smile. "Me? Oh, no." She shakes her head, slow and grave. "I am a good and proper woman; I do what I'm told. As does Angus, I'm sure."

Angus lets out a faint whuff of amusement. "No running off into the Woods or lying to royalty for us."

It's a little odd to hear him speak so casually of things he hasn't witnessed, but Greta's enjoying herself and disinclined to question it. "No, indeed," she agrees with matronly severity. Glancing at Iman, she adds, "So I won't have you dragging my good name through the mud."