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[sub][color=037a03][b]Lady Vittoria Tyrell, High Marshall of the Reach[/b][/color][/sub]

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At his insistence of ‘laying it on’ thickly, Vittoria just stared with her soft brown eyes, long brown hair waving in the breeze behind her armored shoulders. In truth, she had no idea what he meant. Instead, she turned her back and addressed her sworn shield, Ser Ryam, “Let’s bring up a horse for the man, Ser? One of their own will do.”

Garin’s men hadn’t let all the horses of the Faith Militant just run off. One of them would be brought up, as they had no spares of their own. None of their own had been wounded, let alone fell in the skirmish of the old oak. When she turned back to the priest, there was no real change of expression, no break of warmth except for the courtesy of a smile, “Of course,” she said, motioning for some of the mounted men who remained close by to come in and cut him down. 

At his introduction she went through her mind, to see if there was any recall of him—she’d met so many people during her hosted triumph in Volantis, and so many red priests and priestesses, so many cryptic introductions, so many mysteries presented to her, as if she had some grand place in a great design for creation.

Like she was something more than a girl who liked to read, liked sweetcakes, and liked attending service at the Sept in Highgarden with her friends and family. To this day, she felt little different than that girl…except for the weight she felt upon her shoulders now. A weight that had nothing to do with the armor she wore. She was there to offer him a hand after he was cut loose, as Ser Ryam approached with the horse for him, Vittoria decided she didn’t recall him.

“One thing battle has taught me that no priest or septon ever mentioned, Kian: every god has a twisted sense of humor.”

Her own mare was brought to her, a wince of pain as she pulled herself back up to the saddle, before nodding to Garin and Ser Ryam, looking over her good shoulder to the Priest, “Shout if you have trouble keeping up,” the grin barely kept from her lips before she snapped reins and led the way back to camp, and before any more straggling Faith Militant showed up to make the day more interesting than she would liked. 
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