Lucretia watched the exchange in silence, dropping her fingernails away from her mouth. She knew that Bellamy actually did care about Miss Fausta's well-being, if only a little. It was rude of her to think otherwise. She turned her attention to the Blessed servant next to Miss Fasta and offered her a small, polite smile. "Some tea would be wonderful, thank you," she glanced at Miss Fausta once more. "My Lord meant no harm, Miss. If he meant to be sarcastic, I'm afraid it would be much to obvious. I'm Lucretia and this is my Master, Bellamy. I'm afraid I am not entirely sure about your names?"
Her smile never faltered and she squeezed Bellamy's hand as if to say that it was more useful to make allies than enemies in this current situation. In war, you were never certain if you needed a comrade, one that would help you rather than stab you in the back to save their own skin. Lucretia waited patiently for any reply, hoping that she had said the rightt words to diffuse the growing tension. She knew that the Blessed girl was undoutedly uncomfortable, as was Lucretia. She did not like conflict much.