Beau, still trailing along in the group that accompanied the Rose Queen into the Throne room, glances at the others who haven't drifted off. For all people have been hissing at Strange to stop saying things he can't back up and stop making promises he can't keep, his reckless approach is getting results.

What the hell. In for a copper, in for a gold.

"Like he's saying. If you want someone to blame for your troubles, it's not some ragtag group of... changelings?" Beau tilts her head, thinking. "Is that the word? Yeah, changelings, who showed up like... a couple years ago. Your troubles - and your enemies - go back a lot longer than that. So how about we don't make any hasty choices, make sure we have all the facts before rushing into anything."

She shrugs, pointedly nonchalant. "I mean, it's been how long? You might as well do it right, at this point."