Saralegui glances down at the fussing baby with an expression somewhere between concern and distress, and sits there rather uselessly without any idea of how to deal with it.

"Ah," he answers flatly, distracted. There's no attempt made to hide his grimace at mention of the monarchs and the Brucolac's appreciation of them. "Are they hers? I would have guessed the woman you brought to the tournament."