"I think if she will listen to anyone, she will listen to us. But…even that is uncertain, these days. If she does not…I am not certain what is left for us to do."

I reach down and squeeze Hermia's hand sympathetically, but there's no more time for discussion, as Mab is here. She's clean and tidy, which makes a difference from some of the ways I've seen her in town, but she looks tired behind her smile.

"I made some pastries," I say, smiling, "and there's cake from Edmund's - I don't try to compete with his creations." I usher her into a chair. "How are things? It's been a while since we've seen you."