You kept me waiting,she says, voice low and laced with that familiar, measured disdain.
Were you polishing your title again, or just admiring yourself in the mirror?

refreshing.
Noble or not, you’ll always be the pup who couldn’t hold his stance. So—her foot taps the hilt of the sword beside her
—have you come to learn? Or just to be seen by the Sword Saint and hope the shine rubs off?