Isabelle's hand ghosts over where she'd been kissed as she turns to watch Asil leave. Her cheeks flush slightly, a flicker of flame burning through the tiredness, before she heads back to her room with a faint smile on her face. 

Her dreams that night are vivid, but over far too quick. She wakes the next morning with a fleeting sense of flying, of having turned wrenches and sailed through space. It's almost enough to make her ignore her alarm and go back to sleep.

Unfortunately, the alarm is also accompanied by a prim, unfamiliar, member of the family staff who seems all too happy to inform her that breakfast is waiting for her.

She pulls up the match info on her computer, reading it as she's walking to the dining room. Kshatra will be an interesting opponent to face. She'd watched the previous match against Dala Hunters and seen how she'd lost to what was essentially a bluff and religious posturing. It was a tactic that was unlikely to work for Isabelle given the difference in their cultures, not to mention that Kshatra probably rewatched the match herself and learned the lessons she needed from it.

Still - the match information would be accompanied by detailed pilot information and "research" from sources that her mother had organised. And that would help her with building a plan of attack. She idly wondered if her mother had any specific instructions for her too. It would be like her to put her thumb on the scale.

[i]After all. If there's anyone who can tear down an opponent's psyche and reduce them to a quivering mess, it's mother.[/i]

[Invoking Guidance from Above - don't think it's appropriate to roll the read-a-person here yet, but let me know if otherwise]