Minerva had been doing an experiment in her laboratory at home, which she traced to having relations with fairies. Thus, she persuaded her Irish friend to come with her to see it before they revealed it to the People.
They were in the lounge car in a train ride from UK to Paris, and Artemis Fowl was uncharacteristically talkative, being in the rare company of one who could understand his words without requesting him to either slow down or come down a few intellectual levels. He was discussing the Lamarckian properties of magical inheritance when Minerva interrupted him.“Artemis, mon ami,” she said, and Artemis paused to take a sip from his tea. “I am concerned.”
He nodded, urging her to go on.
Minerva didn’t know how else to drop it to him. “Are you two being safe?”
Artemis spluttered on his drink. “What?” Surely she was not talking about what he was thinking.
“You and the elf, Holly. You are being safe, oui?” The woman looked positively determined to express her thoughts. “As your friend, I am worried, especially with the fairy-human compatibility. You know safe methods, correct? And I cannot stress this enough: consent. Consent on her part, and on yours—”
Artemis’s eyes widened in horror. “Minerva, who have you been talking to?”
“Why, Butler, of course. He does defy stereotype in terms of gossip with me. And, you know, Juliet, we are very close.”
“How did they—”
Minerva smirked. “It was hard not to hear, they said.”