[h3][b][color=lightgray] [color=F4BC5E]The One Where a Foreign Noble and[/color] [color=lightgray]&[/color] [color=be003a]a Retired General Have a Homoerotic Sword Fight[/color][/color][/b][/h3]
[color=F4BC5E]Attire:[/color] [url=i.imgur.com/yEDyVAY.png]Layla’s Outfit & Hair[/url]
[color=be003a]Weapons:[/color] [url=i.imgur.com/7Zdj4rn.png]Layla's Swords[/url]
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[color=lightgray]After wowing a crowd with her fancy hat, the General made her way to the nearby stadium where a duel was to take place. She was a part of such a duel, and her presence was expected. She walked in through the gates, down to the front desk and gave the receptionist her name. She was then led to the official arena where she would face her opponent.

Eyeing the red line and the small crowd beginning to form, Lyra wondered who her opponent might be. In all honesty, she didn’t care about putting in any substantial effort. This duel was a matter of sport, not life or death. If she wanted to kill someone then they would be dead before they could draw their weapon. She could stand to be bested in a sporty duel such as this.

After resting from seeing her sister, Layla examined the newspaper. There had been a clip about a sword competition. A smirk crossed her face. At least this country had something decent worth doing. She wondered if they used fake swords and cried if they were struck. This would be too entertaining to miss. She quickly fixed up and pulled her hair into a bun with a few strands framing her face. Layla grinned and snatched up a box from under her bed and quickly left the bedroom. With haste, she summoned her servants and was hastened into her palanquin. Shortly after, she was brought to the competition and registered. Her swords were sheathed on her back and waiting to be used. 

While Layla waited, she gazed around and examined the participants. There were some people she didn’t recognize and made a mental note to examine them further. She waited with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face which thankfully, caused her to be left alone. While she watched people moving in the stands like ants, she wondered if these people were going to die of a heat stroke because they were dressed so stuffy. She only hoped they stayed away from her as far as possible. 

Finally, these dimwitted creatures began the event. The name “Lyra” was called and she looked over with curiosity at who it may have been. She tilted her head to one side with interest and a smirk graced her lips. Then, her name was called, and it was announced that this “Lyra” and her would be the first to duel. Layla waltzed onto the stage and awaited her competitor. 

General Carris climbed to the stage, walking with her head up high and focused solely on… Oh, gods have mercy on her. It seemed her opponent would be an unreasonably beautiful lady this fine day. For a brief second, Lyra fought the urge to smirk. On her hip rested a sheathed sword, but from what was visibly, Layla could easily guess that this was no ordinary woman. The sword’s guard consisted of several roses wrapping around the hilt to form a basket-like shape, tempered in such a way that they appeared red against the argent gray of steel. Perhaps, she thought, that losing wouldn’t be off the table indeed.

The Shehzadi watched Lyra like a hawk, not allowing her gaze to divert for even a second. The woman before her was refined, not like a royal, but regal in other ways. She carried herself proudly, and Layla could surmise this sport was a past time for her. The smirk on her face became a sneer instead, masking her expression. She then eyed the sword on her hip. The intricate design was beautiful enough that Layla didn’t have any snide remark. Allowing her gaze to return to the woman, she unsheathed her swords and grinned.

The General stood still, studying every inch of Layla with her arms folded behind her back.

[color=F4BC5E]”You must be Lyra. Pleasure,”[/color] Layla teased as she gazed at the woman. [color=F4BC5E]”If I am correct, this is a pastime for you. You must be deft with the sword,”[/color] She nodded towards her sword and continued. The haughty smirk returned as usual.  [color=F4BC5E]”Shan’t keep these peasants waiting. Would be rude. Don’t you agree?”[/color] Her voice was light and teasing, as she ignored the crowd cheering them on to begin.

[color=be003a]”Indeed. Though, anything is possible when two masters of the sword meet. Do not count yourself out just yet, my lady.”[/color] Lyra retorted, with a similarly teasing voice. She withdrew her blade, and the edge was no less sophisticated than the hilt. It was a straight blade that came to a fine point, almost like a rapier, and bore a nearly mirror-fine polish. 

Layla’s smirk turned from haughty to genuine amusement. Nobody in this pitiful country had amused her this much. She unsheathed her swords and grinned. Did this woman think she had counted herself out? What a misguided connotation. Nonetheless, she grinned and retorted, [color=F4BC5E]“My lady, I never count myself out.”[/color]

[color=be003a]”Shall we?”[/color]

Then she took a deep breath and moved into an offensive stance. [color=F4BC5E]”We shall,”[/color] Layla took a few steps forward, then with lightning speed, spun around her opponent to strike her thigh. 

Truly, this woman seemed like a cut above the rest. Dual-wielding swords was unconventional, but could potentially be very deadly when wielded properly. Having spent quite a lot of time in Alidahst before, Lyra saw the strike coming. She thrusted her sword downward towards the point of contact, deflecting the sword sideways. Lyra then used that motion to swipe horizontally at Layla, which left her guard open.

Layla’s smirk formed into a look of glee when the woman deflected her. However, Lyra’s next swipe was far too novice for a woman of her stature. She frowned at the open guard and met Lyra’s gaze. Rage burned in her eyes as she struck her hip. Then, she used her other sword to knock Lyra’s blade out of her hand, which she watched clatter to the ground. In fury, she then swiped Lyra’s feet from out under her and bent down as if it were an accident to pick up Lyra’s blade. 

[color=F4BC5E]”Can’t face me? I didn’t take you for a coward.”[/color] She hissed as she stepped back with a glower that would send shivers down her servant’s spines. [color=F4BC5E]”My high hopes for you have been dashed. But I suppose I should thank you.”[/color] She stood up without helping Lyra up and kept an eye on the woman to make sure she didn’t try anything cheap. Her swords were gripped in her hands as she went back to her haughty, now deadly, smirk. 

[color=F4BC5E]”Are you going to wait all day to announce the winner or get on with it?”[/color] Her voice was directed at the speaker as she became impassive, contemplating the woman’s unpredictable move. 

Lyra promptly fell backwards. Unsurprisingly so. Rather than spit out a string of expletives in response to Layla’s sudden change in demeanor, Lyra [i]giggled.[/i] Her hair was scattered across the ground, and her hairs were over her head in such a dainty way, it was like she was a delicate princess and not a hardened veteran. [color=be003a]”Ah… It seems you’ve bested me, my lady. Clearly, you are the better fighter between us.”[/color] There was a look of flighty mirth spread across Lyra’s face. She wouldn’t say it out loud, but it was not a victory for Layla. No, Lyra allowed this to happen. After all, she could never forgive herself for hurting such a pretty face.

Layla sneered at Lyra and turned to face her. The way the woman fell was princess-like, and it only further caused her blood to boil. She scowled at her and shook her head with disgust. [color=F4BC5E]”You belong on the ground to walk amongst the filthy insects that call it home.”[/color] She ignored the rest of the woman’s words as the crowd cheered and clapped, despite the confusion. 

[color=be003a]”You are, truly, the champion. I don’t believe I caught your name?”[/color] General Carris said, standing up, brushing her hair clean with a hand and collecting her sword. [color=be003a]”I think I might’ve remembered had I heard the name of such a cunning warrior before.”[/color] That smile was still there, only less untamed and more… Subtle.

[color=F4BC5E]”Oh shut up.”[/color] Layla snapped and strode away from the woman without another glance backwards. Her expression was steel and her gaze could turn one to stone. 

Finally, the dimwitted announcer stood up and waved to the crowd. [color=tan]”Our winner is…. Shehzadi Layla Kadir!”[/color] The woman rolled her eyes and took her seat back on the bench. She did not look back at the woman and ignored her completely, and instead turned her attention to the next fight. 

Lyra simply smirked as “Layla” left. In her opinion, it was okay for that woman to be angry with such an easy loss. It would’ve been unfair for Lyra to use her full breadth of skills against a Shehzadi- A [i]princess.[/i] Surely she had her own skills in her own right, Lyra didn’t doubt that. But a cub doesn’t become a lion without mercy from time to time. Royalty and generals were simply different people.

[color=be003a]”She’ll be fine.”[/color] Lyra said to herself, out loud, and left the stadium, taking her forfeiture with dignity.[/color]