"Tobias!" the star yelps as the man seated next to her lobs a particularly well-aimed piece of cutlery at the third voice, before the room quiets once more.

She swallows a bit thickly at the request, ducking her chin to mumble a quick agreement before she's all flutter and show once more. Fork reaching upward to twang loudly over the renewed din of voices.

"Now this is a quiet story, sirs," she reprimands - voice falling, changing to some fine, musical thing. "One for our smitten Master Thorn."