A messenger
As it turned out, the new voice belonged to a distinguish-looking middle-aged butler kneeling down at an appropriate distance.
"Young lady, sir puppet, I am a member of the eleventh unit of the royal guards. My name is Persimmon and the queen has sent me as a mediator between herself and the two of you."
The man spoke with his head lowered, without showing even a bit of hostility.
"How did you get here? There was no trace of your life signature within miles when I checked a few seconds ago."
Zombie scoffed, glaring down the butler, as he locked the red-haired girl in a protective embrace.
"Sir puppet, that is because I teleported here. I am queen's personal transportation man... if I can describe my function so boldly."
Persimmon explained in a calm voice.