Before she knew it, Gertrude was dropped from one of the old hag's loops right into another. Or at least, something like it. The hard mahogany haft of her broom smacked into her head while she was caught unawares, and Gertrude let out a barrage of curses under her breath as the Witch casually continued explaining... something... to some people? These were probably the order of knights that they had chatted about. Right? They didn't look too impressive. Gertrude grumbled as she massaged her head.

That broom was a present, dammit.

And just as quick as Gertrude had been thrown into this situation, Merilia disappeared in a puff of unquestionability. Gertrude silently took note of her treatment here, and determined to get Merilia back one day too.

All those old bags were gonna get it... eventually.

Remarkably, it was the least knightly-looking one of the bunch that approached her and helped her to her feet. If she didn't [i]know[/i] he was a knight, she would have guessed he was a peasant. Call it pauper's intuition. That, and he was at least humble enough to help some random maid up, which was apparently beneath most of the so-called knights. Gertrude clicked her tongue as she dusted herself off.

"I'm Gertrude, and I'm [i]fine,[/i]" she practically growled, helping the homunculus to her feet as well, "I don't need any help, and I didn't ask for it."

Though she said this, it would have been obvious by grabbing her arm that she was incredibly weak. Though she magically reinforced her body, it didn't make her any more muscular than the sickly girl she always was.

Gertrude practically shoved her broom at the homunculus, knowing that the creature didn't have Florian's pendant or a lot of mana to spare. The homunculus was largely something she used to continue researching while she was focusing on other things, and not a combat tool. Depending on the length of the trek, the homunculus might have some physical difficulties. If those arose, she could hover on the broom without having to use too much of her own mana.

She willfully pushed past Gerard, immediately taking him up on his offer in the middle rank despite her otherwise unhelpful attitude. She didn't think she would have any trouble defending herself, but that Witch might have put a lot of unfair bullshit in the way and it would be safest to let the front and back take all the abuse. Even if they couldn't die, it would still be a pain.

When they finally made their way into the castle, some big guy Gertrude didn't know greeted them all. As her homunculus, exhausted, took the nice seat with all the cushions, Gertrude crossed her arms. With the power of context clues, she was soon on... almost the same page as everyone else. To her own dismay, she snorted when the knight with the well-groomed facial hair started talking about dalliances and boars as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Cyrus. [i]That[/i] Cyrus? It seemed so. In the context of the Iron Rose Knights, that name meant only one thing, after all. But wasn't he...

"Aren't you supposed to be dead, gramps?" Gertrude asked with all the decorum of a raccoon at a royal banquet, "might wanna crawl back in the ground before one of these knights freaks out and smites you."