She chuckled, that same smile crossing her lips. "You would fight me?" she chuckled. "How curious. You seemed far more interested in [i]other[/i] activities the last time we met."

Whispers would have spread, had the rest of the world not frozen before them. She approached slowly but not from fear, but with the confidence of a woman who knew she wouldn't be in any danger. She stopped halfway between him and the beggars, her obsidian eyes taking them in. One could almost see the wheels turning in her mind, twisted and evil as they were. Then, with that same sneer carved into her porcelain face, she turned back to the noble.

"You have done all you can to forget your roots, boy," she said. "and it will cost you. Your pride will be your rue."

She turned and snatched Miranda's wrist. From the contact, the singer was suddenly animated again, and eyeing the world with large, frightened eyes. her gaze caught the wtches, and those eyes narrowed in fearful rebellion.

"Let me go!" She demanded struggling in her grip. "Demon! Hag! I'll see you hanged!"

"Feisty one, she," the witch said, barely flinching from the girl's attempts to inflict injury."And yet none will save her; because chivalry is long since dead."

The witch plunged her nails into Miranda's shoulder, drawing fresh blood. With it on her pale fingers. "The blood in this wench's veins will be your undoing, Khaylan," she said. She dropped the blood on the ground, damned words flowing past her lips. As the girl bled onto the cobblestones, the liquid began to form a symbol of black magic on the ground. It glowed unearthly red, and what was left trailed over to Khaylan's knees, bathing him in the same red-light.