I've never told anyone because...it doesn't matter. I'm Francis Drake now, and I have been for long enough that I don't really care about the alternative. But you, you....you idiot, if you were anyone else, I wouldn't have had to tell you!

God knows I've done so much lying and thievery that a little more doesn't matter worth a damn, but it had to be you, William goddamned Shakespeare! It had to be the one person that made me feel like an idiot for lying to!

[She shook with a combination of anger and...what must have been nerves. Rider really didn't know for certain. When was the last time she had cared enough to be nervous? When had she ever feared anything? Damn him. Damn him and all of this.]

This...is the truth of it, William. You and I met once, possibly twice, when both of us were still alive and before I was Temeroso el Draque. I remember this, and I know that you do too. I was young back then, without my share of scars and in a stupid dress like this one.

But I had a different name then. I wasn't born Francis Drake, I was...I was Elizabeth I. Daughter of Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn.

And if you so much as think about looking at me differently now, I swear on the Golden Hind I will shoot you right here!