Wheeling Gull Isle wordlessly watching, he waits by the window

She dipped her muzzle in careful consideration of his question. I have always spoken to Jaes through the language of my family, Maegi explained. Prayer can come in any language—but if you wish to hear Jaes, perhaps try this—

Jaes, ñuha āeksio, ñuha mīsio, she intoned. 'Jaes, my lord, my protector.' Māzigon.  Rȳbagon nyke. 'Come. Hear me.'

He was, at least, bilingual; he had spoken in his ritual tongue to her before. She thought that he may be able to pick up on Daedric relatively quickly, and if not, it would only take him a few times to get the hang of it. Whether he tried it here before her, or somewhere yonder, mattered not.

She would know if he tried. Jaes would tell her if he tried.