The infirmary, she decides, is preferable; she can make this Stephen's problem and she can make virtue of preference by making sure she takes this news to Niehaus before someone else does while she's on her way to figuring out where to start digging up everything they can feasibly find out from here about knights of the sun. Sounds like the sort of thing people who have no meaningful cause commit themselves to, she thinks, uncharitably.

Cedric is bleeding. There is not much thinner her mouth can get.

“Keep the dog under control,” she says, flat enough that the absence of threatened consequence doesn't mean she hasn't got any in mind, and jerks her chin at Guilfoyle, who correctly interprets this as an instruction to walk at Herian's elbow and not hers.

There's no threat in his affect, beyond that he is an unavoidably unsettling presence; on the contrary, it's clear from the way he falls in step with her that he expects to be there to accommodate if holding a wriggling corgi makes any part of this journey challenging, particularly as the fact of an open wound on her face might well mean aches and disorientation in and of itself. That it's also an open discouragement of anyone trying to accompany them is a side benefit rather than the outright purpose.

Gwenaëlle catches Cedric's elbow, “Don't think I've forgotten how many knocks to the head you've taken recently. You're going to the infirmary as well.”