"A number of us recall it. Bit by bit of her started to fade away... until there was nothing left," she says, folding her hands in front of her. There's no shift in her tone or expression, nothing to hint at her discontentment over such a thing. Still, it tinges the air around her, as if bleeding through her pores. It fades as she glances up to meet the eerie eyes of the mask. "How would you explain such a phenomenon?"

She doesn't ask out of spite, but of genuine curiosity. This was a war she did not ask to be a part of; the least she could do was listen to the opposing side. Whether it was lies or truths Kebechet spins, that would be more information to pick apart later. Two sides to a story.

"COST still has your twin's head?" Despite herself, a part of her softens. That sentiment was similar enough to the Dothraki's belief about the soul and burning a body. She looks ahead, staring at the inky black smoke. "What brought you both to join this war?"

A part of her wants to say that she does not hold individuals in the Regency to blame, but the organization as a whole... but these are thoughts better left to herself. Those sorts of words would be used by some to their own advantage. Twisted and morphed until it was honed into a blade that would do her harm.