Tristan rested her hand on the pommel of The Siren hanging at her hip. The long blade had been crafted as a gift by her father's blacksmith for when she returned from her stay in France. It was as if the man knew Lady Moeya's attempts at making a proper lady of her were doomed from the start. It was a beautiful sword, with a rippling blade like ocean waves that sang through the air as it was swung, as a siren lures men to their death by song. The pommel was etched with an illustration of a mermaid in the water looking out at the island of Lyonesse, the castle clearly depicted, and a shimmering aquamarine was set at the end of the pommel. The long sword was narrow and its undulating shape lent a curious reverberation, as each undulation created a new point of impact, into the sword of her opponents making it harder to hold onto their weapon for the moment of parry, and often causing them to step back and falter. At the blade's base, her name had been inscribed as 'Tristan de Lyonesse' in flowing script. She wore it in a leather scabbard at her belt which had been decorated in tapestry depicting more blue waves.

While her body language was relaxed, she listened to The Giant regard her king and would be ready should he breach the truce of the tournament. Couldn't these boars just let her eat her supper peacefully at last? It seemed men were underfoot no matter where she walked today.