"Or you could always just let humans run their own shit and stop interfering all the time. Just saying," she just says, as the cold air bites at the exposed skin of her face, and her barely-rested muscles protest silently with each movement her horse makes. She casts her gaze toward their royal guard for just a moment, wondering if perhaps she ought to shut the hell up and stick to polite sounds of agreement.

But Gideon has never excelled at that.

"You know you're kinda the bad guys, right? It was common knowledge in Drearburh. Vampires just wanna enslave all of humanity and keep us around for like, snacking purposes," this is how she'd heard it told, stories passed between retainers and servants through hushed conversations. An evil to be vanquished, barely even people at all. Her gold-coin eyes cut in Lenore's direction, trying to read her expression, wondering if she'll refute the claim. Being confined to one mouldering Kingdom her entire life has left her knowledge stunted at best, relying on hand-me-down tales from an already insular and cryptic people.