Was this woman a [i]jester[/i]? Her garish magic tricks were utterly ridiculous, and Gertrude's lips remained frozen in a frown the entire time she performed until that awful wreath appeared on her head. Her eye twitched, and she ripped the wreath off, glaring at Amy. Gertrude did [i]not[/i] like being taken by surprise. She unceremoniously discarded the wreath as they continued on their way, not bothering to acknowledge Amy's little prank save for the daggers she glared.

At least the value of a pretty garden was one thing on which they could agree.

"I'd enjoy a little quiet, but I guess I can't get that," she jabbed, voice still sharp and venomous from that wreath prank, "but sure, maybe a few pretty flowers in bloom can help assuage my abject [i]annoyance[/i]."

Though Gertrude downplayed it, taking naps among flowers was one of her favorite things. She was actually looking forward to it a little, but the nosy little Devil just couldn't [i]leave her be[/i]. Her spine chilled slightly when Amy confronted her about Gretchen. What could she possibly know? How could she know it? Gertrude's story was fine, so she had to have some reason to be suspicious.

She had to know something that most people couldn't know. Gertrude just had to figure out what and how.

"Oh...?"

Gertrude smirked. It was her usual pompous, bratty accompaniment. She couldn't let Amy know that she was actually [i]worried[/i] about being figured out.

"So that's what you are. I thought you were acting too nice, and I was on the mark. You're a hypocrite. Unsurprising for a 'religious' sort. A 'rules for thee but not for me' situation. You expect me to trust you with my secrets, if indeed there are any, but you won't do me the simple courtesy of telling me how you know this thing you apparently know. Well, trust is a two way street, and if you want something, you have to give something. But you won't, because you think that you're right and I'm not worth wasting basic decency on."

Gertrude let the Demon have it, blasting her with everything she could think to say to make Amy tell her what she knew and how she knew it. If Amy was half the kindhearted person she made herself out to be, she'd have to tell Gertrude. If she wasn't, well, that was one more person Gertrude could safely (pretend to) be better than.

Behind her smarmy, in-control facade, however, her emotions told a different story. She was, as always, a horrifying tempest of negativity. Her dark complexes and sick logic were likely enough to make most empaths retch. Tellingly, anger was at the forefront, but tempered with fear. Gertrude knew how capital-W-Witchcraft was looked at. Suspicion at best, a lynching at worst. If Amy were to learn, she could hold it over Gertrude's head or just tell everyone. Gertrude, as always, was constantly thinking about ways other people could hurt her.

The 'why' didn't matter. People wanted to hurt her. They couldn't be trusted. That was the truth of the world she had learned.

And sadly, her paranoia sometimes served her well.

---

Gretchen almost scoffed at Renar's statement. 'Clever' was, perhaps, one word for it. But the truth was, they were playing with two gigantic cheaters and one confused Hundi. The newcomers were on the obvious backfoot, to the point where schemes on their end would scarcely even the playing field. Gretchen went forward with her plan to mark the cards into unrecognizability for the experienced knights, which she did under the table, but it was going to be slow going.

If she was to play the long game, she'd have to take a bath the first few rounds.

Eventually, this might have worked. Might have given her an immense advantage.

But as a few hands went by, and Gertrude made her counts, it became immensely obvious.

These shits were using more than one deck, and what's more, they were hiding cards in a way that even the immensely observant Gretchen couldn't suss out. She needed a different strategy, but what could she do?

Then, Fanilly awkwardly stumbled into the room, and a possible avenue to victory revealed itself. Gretchen casually leaned back in her chair, and looked to the Captain.

"Ah, has the new Captain of the Iron Roses come to peep on our little game? I'm not doing so well, mistress."

Gretchen frowned.

"But I suppose that's to be expected. Can't outdo the famous traitor in duplicity. Don't worry about not knowing how to play the game, Captain, because [i]someone[/i] here is playing by pretty different rules anyways."

Gretchen made a show of the fact that Fanilly was the new Captain of the old bastards' order, figuring she could play into a desire to act more chivalrous in front of the new generation. More specifically, she saw Edwin as the weaker link, and if he were needled about his nature as a traitor, he might be tempted to give up his brother's tricks to retain some honor.

Ironically betraying him once again, but of course, people didn't change. She just hoped someone else would pick up what she was tacitly suggesting, because she didn't have the magical backup to say anything too outrageous. To lay into Edwin the way she wanted to.

She hated that she was even [i]sort of[/i] relying on anyone else, but Gretchen was painfully aware that she was barely even capable of walking on her own.