The invitation comes as somewhat of a surprise; the Fool, though amicable, is a private person, and privacy carries a significance in Aifaran it did not back home. "Oh, I couldn't -" Rutile begins to say. In the corner of their eye, the door flares into a new color, yellow as a beryl and as difficult to gaze upon.

The sentries jump away from the door and their discussion becomes harsher. The second one gestures back at the Fool with an exasperated flick of her wrist, while the first expresses some disagreement.

None of that is something Rutile feels inclined to deal with; amusing as the Fool's antics are, he has surely made things worse for the both of them. And at the end of the day, it is the end of the day, and they are tired.

"... Perhaps only as long as it takes for me to dry off," Rutile concedes. "And you will want to make yourself scarce before they realize their culprit was standing here the entire time."