Well... progress is progress.
The two Cheths whirl back around, looking down at Phaedra with disdain. The man clasps the woman's formerly-injured hand in his, protectively. The woman looks unimpressed.
Cheth: Fine, fine. I'm done. Why don't we try something a little different?
The two stride past Phaedra, still on the floor, their capes billowing behind them. They stick their noses in the air.
Cheth: They boy wants us to talk, so let's TALK. There's no time to spare, so we might as well.
The man takes the woman's hand and lowers her onto the couch at the other side of the room.
Cheth: There's a bit more information I can pass along... if it will end this madness even sooner.
The man approaches the corner of the room nearest to the couch and window, and prepares to open a panel in the wall. The woman fondly looks at him from the couch.
Cheth: But if we're going to keep things polite... then I will need something to temper my... RESENTMENT.