She smiles in spite of his sulk, if not without some self-awareness. Sincerely she says, "Thank you."

It's as she's settling more solidly against the rafter that his second bit comes and makes her eyes turn wide.

"Merlyn?" she repeats, though if asked to spell it she would use an I. "As in the Merlyn who knew a certain Arthur Pendragon?"

It can't be, can it? But here he is, a genuine wizard, old and wrinkly and lengthily bearded. Time shenanigans are already in evidence from her meeting with her brother, and the presence of so many humans tells her all it needs to about other universes.