Gertrude floated alongside the knights, a thoroughly unimpressed expression on her face. A few seemed to be just as off-put as she was that they were being sent to interrogate a madman. Old age? Disease? Too many siblings for parents? It didn't seem the sort of matter for a contingent of knights to occupy themselves with, but with the medical and magical experts already called in and nothing to show for it, she supposed a horde of dunderpates might as well give it a shot.

A noble probably wouldn't have had a hack mage called in unless they were someone's nephew, but it was possible she could pick up on something that even an experienced finger-wiggler wouldn't. The rest seemed a bit excessive, save for the alchemist, but apparently the Roses had enough bad experiences in this forest to warrant considerably more firepower than Gertrude thought they needed.

Still, the lout wasn't completely wrong. Names had power, and it seemed that this wood had historically more than enough animosity for the Roses. It would be best to remain alert, so Gertrude opened her senses up as much as she could to the presence of mana, trying to tune the vampiric nexus out as much as she could.

...Goddesses, that woman could fawn over a horse.

"Think they'll let me cast on the old sod," Gertrude called up to Fanilly, "if I promise it's to his benefit? I mean, if you can't trust the Roses, who can you trust?"