Psychic block
Rose carefully gathered her words as she replied Dumpheries.
"I..." she started haltingly. "That is to say, my comfort and care are being attended to as best they can be under the circumstances."
It was a half-truth, but she didn't wish to burden the kind blacksmith with the unsavory details of her outcast status within these walls. Dumphries seemed to pick up on her reticence, however.
"Begging your pardon, milady," he said gruffly. "But you'll forgive me if I don't fully believe that silver-tongued line."
Rose's eyebrows rose in surprise at his forthrightness. The older man's expression was etched with paternal concern.
"I may just be a simple craftsman," Dumphries went on. "But I've eyes and ears in this palace like you wouldn't believe. I know your relations with the staff and Lady Gladys have been... strained, as of late."