Bethany was mostly silent, for now, as she listened to the story and tried to stay out of the gaze of... everyone but the Princess, really. Eliabelle had stopped glaring at Rinaldo, and was now watching Gillian. Once his story had finished, her eyes drifted away from his arm after a few stunned moments and towards the ground. Orcs... Eliabelle had heard of them, though she had never seen them. Taking names priding themselves on slaughter. Murdering and... even eating other races... horrendous barbarism. Worship of spilt blood, worship of dark, dead things that had once sought to subjugate or destroy everyone who lived on these lands.

"Sir Gillian," she began, looking up, "Father will strive to destroy any orcs remaining on Thaln's lands. It is a purpose he has dedicated himself to. And... when it is my time, I will continue his work. And... I... I am so sorry for what happened to you."

She looked downwards. It was a sad tale, the kind of thing Eliabelle wanted to see halted. The sort of thing she wished she could prevent from happening ever again.

Bethany, on the other hand, looked with wide eyes at the strange, insectile arm. Immediately she approached, her shyness momentarily forgotten, as she scanned it with her eyes. However, there was no way she could bring herself to use her hands to inspect it. It was still part of someone.

"This... this is..." she trailed off, then took a deep breath. "This is no magic. The only thing that could create something like this is something like one of the ancient spirits that came with the gods. But... no, it's different then that too... I think this arm was made by a demon."