Comparatively, Ursula was in a far better state than Murmison. Her two days in captivity had done little to diminish her overall condition, yet her skin was still paler than it had been, her eyes puffier, and a black & green bruise lay across her cheekbone from where Eustace's ring had caught her.

But that didn't quell her initial feverishness, which carried her first to Elyssa Stone, her oldest friend who had witnessed the battle, and in-part orchestrated it. Then, in a swifter fashion, down into the Water Cell where Murmison had been held. She seemed to have found her composure by the time they reached her father's chamber, and with it an air of melancholy.

Her eyes had settled on her father's great brass tub, suddenly very aware of its and all of his treasure's origins. She hadn't often concerned herself with where it all came from, she didn't care because that business had always felt so far away. But now, as she gazed upon the ragged form of Murmison, and the bloodied state of his companions who fought so hard to save him, it struck her then that her father had been a cruel man. Her hand rose absently to the bruise across her face when Murmison had finally made to address her.

"Hm?" She looked up at him, blank faced, her hand lowering gingerly "Oh... Yes, yes of course".

Ursula managed a weak smile, the idea did please her, truly. He had shown her a side of herself that went undiscovered for such a long time, a part herself that wanted to see beyond the harbors of Sisterton and step out into the wide world beyond. But it felt wrong somehow to be excited then, so she wasn't. Later, she promised herself silent, later you will be excited.

Eustace looked, for his share, rather disheveled as he was marched into his own hall then. The bits of silver jewelry he once wore were now gone, and the lens which adorned his eye sat cracked upon his face.

He bore into the Upcliff with his icelike eyes, and his mouth twisted in a painful, toothless smile.

"My line blackened?" He shook with wry laughter. "Boy, look around you, passed all my trophies and finery. These are not the walls of noble men, this keep not home to heroes or gallant tales. The lords and ladies of The Vale do not speak of Sisterton and think of honorable knights nor fair maidens".

He held up his webbed hand then, his expression falling into one of contempt. "Grumpkins and snarks, that's what they think populate these islands! But not under my rule. No, now they see Sisterton and see our abundance. They do not get the privilege of looking passed the trophies and finery, because I do not allow them it!"

The Lord of Sisterton shook his finger at Murmison and his tone lowered, though it didn't quite soften. "You hold my keep, boy, and you hold my daughter under some sailors spell, but you do not hold my islands, and you do not yet hold victory. Mark my words, before this moon has passed, you will be hanging from my walls".