Tyene Sand stood by the courtyard wall, her eyes trained on the figure in the distance. It was her cousin, Arianne’s brother, who was finishing his sword practice under the watchful eye of the older knights. His movements were smooth, but too deliberate, lacking the raw aggression of Obara or the instinctive ferocity of their father. Still, she couldn’t deny that there was a certain appeal to his polished technique, even if it seemed more suited for a dance than a battle.

Her voice was sweet as honey when she called out to him, her dimples accentuating her smile. "Dear cousin, you’re looking quite impressive today. How does it feel to have such refined form?" Her eyes lingered a moment too long on the broadness of his shoulders, the flex of muscle beneath his tunic. Not bad... for someone who clearly spends more time trying to look handsome than actually fight.

His manners were as expected—polite, perhaps a little too self-assured. Arianne's brother had always been the type to smile a lot, though Tyene doubted the authenticity behind his charm. He has his mother’s looks, but not her grace. Too stiff. Too... safe.

As he drew near, she tilted her head and spoke again, her tone sugar-sweet but her mind a thousand miles away, focused on calculating his every flaw. Too much care in the way he holds himself. He thinks too much of his appearance, like a man who’s spent his life being told how important he is. Does he truly think he can live up to the legacy of our house?

"Perhaps you should try something more daring next time?" Tyene suggested, batting her lashes in a playful mockery of innocence. She wasn't sure if he was blind to the amusement dancing in her eyes or if he simply had no idea how much she was already dissecting him in her mind.