Agatha's eyes widen at the sight, and she quickly looks the boy up and down, trying to find the source of the electricity he's using. She cares not a jot about these Bees or bees or whatever they are that he's mentioned. "Magic is most certainly not real," she counters, tone darkening from mild annoyance to outright anger. She does not like being made to look a fool. Just because she can't see the trick doesn't mean she's going to fall for it.

She finds stage magic charming after a fashion, but it's something that she knows to be fake. If this Ienzo is going to play at it being real, then she refuses to have anything to do with it. The older woman rose to her feet. She wasn't very tall, but she brought to bear all of the towering disapproval of generations of English blue bloods.

"Have you been filling my nephew's head up with ideas that it is real? How dare you. He's a stupid boy, and I will not have him corrupted by some Oriental charlatan!"