"I can't say I like this Grey London moniker," Sirius admits with a wrinkle of his nose. He's only partially teasing, lips tugged into a hint of a smile. "Though I suppose it's not my London so much. We've magic, after all. And have done for centuries. Perhaps we should come up with a different name, if only for mine."

He arches an eyebrow as Kell continues, however, his mention of fritters prefacing a comment far more intriguing. "Palace?" he says, head cocked. "Royal family or servant?"