Gideon watches all of this play out in front of her like some kind of weirdo pantomime, and, as usual, she has absolutely no fucking idea what's going on.  Her golden eyes dart between Palamedes' horrified expression and the way that Harrow is trying to dig her way into the stuffing of her couch like a panicky cockroach.  Her coppery eyebrows draw together in a frown.  "What?"