"You say you're here against your will, and yet you eat their food and drink their tea." She raises an eyebrow. "I don't think it's so much against your will anymore - that is, if you're like me at all, and not some fae putting on a show." She practically spits the word. The woman hadn't had a bad reaction to her mace; faeries usually sensed the cold iron core and skirted clear of it. But this place was weird, and rules seemed to have gone out the window.

She will go on a hunger strike if she has to.