"The things I collect and that so-called capes are gifted with."

"...also known as powers?"

"I suppose."

"And by 'performing together' do you mean... the heroes and villains thing, or... something else...?"

"That is but a small part of the greater performance."

"What's the greater performance, then?"

"I suppose one can say it started with the first fairy gifted and will end in three hundred years hence, as we all depart for new stages."

"...with what content, to what end."

"To improve on past performances, and to find one that need not end."

"Improve along what axis?"

"The creativity of the dance, the artistry of the performance, and the ingenuity of the script."

"What is this a metaphor for. Please."

"For ... everything. Of importance."

"What is it that makes the things you describe of importance?"

The Queen chuckles.

"I suppose they make themselves important."

"To... whom."

"To themselves and to the play."

Lorica cannot tell if Glaistig Uaine is trying to communicate and really really bad at it, having lots of fun with confusing Lorica, or getting subtly frustrated with the line of questioning and about to snap. She's gambling that a snap will be heralded by a threat of some kind.

Also there's not much else to do here till the promised parts arrive.

"What bearing does all this have on what human beings are up to beyond that sometimes a human gets a power?"

"Every play needs its actors, as every court needs people to hold its titles."

"Were you going to ask a shade to get me some parts so I can talk to Dragon?" Maybe Glaistig Uaine talks like this literally all the time and Dragon has logs of it and can send it all to Rete to analyze if Lorica asks nicely.

"Oh yes." And a third shade can appear - this one with a multitude of ghostly mechanical arms that reach into rifts in space and pull out two radios and a CD player.

"What? You could do that the whole time!"

"For those who have a measure of my trust."

The woman balls her hands into fists and clenches her jaw, expelling air through her nose rather than yelling for a moment before she slams her fist down. The whole cutlery structure collapses when she does, silverware falling downwards only for prongs and handles to catch each other just so, bouncing the items out rather than down, sending the ornate dinnerware hurling in all directions save at the builder. 

The items plummet before they can hit the Fairy Queen or any of her shades, the Holdfast sending them sinking into the cement floor along with the woman.