"The score, Prince Enrich, was not between The Hunt and The Order. It was between Tyaethe and Rozenalt. One of Mistress Yaya's enduring regrets of hundreds of years was not ending The Bloody Lord for good with her own hands. This was her opportunity to remove a very old thorn from her side. A singular stain upon a long career that only she would notice, but notice she did."

Gertrude turned her attention back to Elisandre, who seemed the most enthusiastic of her listeners.

"But you are correct, Princess. He was not the same. On the inside, he was just as wicked as any story you've been told. On the outside, however, he was unrecognizable save for his blood-red armor. His head was a bare skull with eyes like glowing coals, and he wore a three-pointed gold crown."

Gertrude crossed one leg over the other, and smirked as if she'd won something.

"Princess... I know you want to ask Yaya about the fight, but..."

Gertrude leaned a little closer, and made her voice a little softer.

"She won't tell you [i]anything[/i]. I can assure you of that. She thinks it's too exciting, and that it will paint her in a light that will make you swoon. I, however, have no compunctions about telling you the [i]whole story[/i]. You should hear it, princess. For the purposes of your records, if nothing else."

---

Gretchen grinned as she enjoyed the color on Tyaethe's cheeks, but quickly turned to sulking when the woman protested the insinuation that she had a crush.

"Boring Yaya," Gretchen said, puffing her cheeks out, "you're in the presence of some very pretty young women. Even if you don't mean it, you should lie."

Then, Gretchen tousled Tyaethe's hair.

"Anyways, aside from the arrhythmia, it sounds like maybe you've got a hole in there? I'm actually a bit surprised you lasted as long as you did. Well, before the vampirism."