At another time, that little gesture - imbued with authority and expectation - might have served to piss her off, but instead Gideon is swift to take her place a step behind Lenore. Her nerves are singing, muscles tight-coiled and aching for a fight, so it kinda sucks that it sounds like she's missed out on all the action. It's not a disappointment she can dwell on though, not whilst relief still fills her like light just knowing that Lenore wasn't caught in some trap. That the others are back at the mayor's house, even if she learns this latter from the vampire's address to Bronwyn.

Bronwyn, meanwhile, takes her place at Lenore's side as though she belongs there, like she's earnt it. Gideon figures - based on what she's already been told - that she has. She shows no sign of fear in the presence of the vampires, nor at Lenore's lofty position as Queen, instead speaking to her in her quiet, steely voice in a way that conveys her own authority, but also her respect. Evidently, she'd anticipated this very outcome; intervention from the Queendom, something better than the corruption and brutishness they were currently labouring under. Her belief in the vampire women positioned above that of the human men.

Gideon stays silent, face filled with sparking menace-- but she's listening. Learning something new.