"It's a truly ridiculous number, and he also likes there to be a variety of kinds, but it takes less than four days to make that many," laughs why-has-no-one-asked-for-her-name-yet-
"Well, he needs them hot, and it may not be convenient for him to come over for the next day or two, so you could help me with some of the prep work if you'd like to, but the finished pancakes themselves just sort of get continuously tossed into his mouth over a three-hour period as they come off the griddle, and none of this is relevant to your quest so I wouldn't expect you to still be here."
"...No," says Tony, "see, I will take you to see the Skyvault. Is what I meant."
"Oh!" Pause. "I don't understand! You're busy and Kexan knows where the castle is!"
"You want to see the Skyvault. I think you're cute, so I want to show you the Skyvault. If you just show up there on a dragon, Mom might decide not to let you look at the Skyvault."
"Oh. And that would be a terrible pity." Beat. "All right, should I call Kexan right now and mix up pancake batter and pack or - I don't know what your questing schedule looks like."
"Our questing schedule is completely whim-based," Tony assures her.
"What party are you calling, please?"
"Kexan."
"One moment, please." The mirror plays soft music and Not-witch goes to survey her pancake ingredients. She picks up a paring knife and an apple and tells the knife, "Peel, core, slice, neatly, then move on to the next, repeat four times," and then she starts scooping large amounts of flour into her giant mixing bowl. "Do you want to chop up the chocolate or something?" she asks Sherlock.
"The other party has not yet come to his or her mirror. Please wait."
"Hmm."
"The other party has not left a message."
"Hmm." She snaps her fingers. "Oh, I remember! Kexan's visiting his uncle, all week. I wrote that down but I didn't think to check my notes. Drat." She flicks the paring knife; it finishes apple number two and then sets itself down.
"Yes, sorry." Notwitch starts snapping her fingers imperiously at all the implements, and they put themselves away. The still-dry pancake mix finds itself a lid and tucks itself into a cupboard. "It looks like it's a hiking trip after all. Will Her Majesty also not let me look at the Skyvault if I arrive not-on-a-dragon?"
"The dragon is not significant. The presence or absence of another member of the royal family is. We are each capable of showing you the Skyvault on our own authority."
"Well, it seems like it would put you much farther out of your way to hike there with me for four days. I have this awful phobia of brooms ever since a temperamental one kicked me off of it, and I'm still saving up to order a carpet to enchant..."
"Do not consider it going out of our way," says Sherlock. "That would imply far too much planning and coordination on our part."
"So when you said you were looking for - no, come to think of it, you didn't, you said Her Majesty wanted you to look for husbands. Ah-ha."
"Let us say that if I were to look into the Pool of Heart's Desire, I do not think I would see a suitable husband looking back at me."
"You know, I do actually know where that one is. The window I mentioned showed me someone who needed to find it, last year. What do you think you'd see?"