Yseult maintains eye-contact (or at least the fix of her attention, if avoided) as Vega fumbles, slops, wipes, sits, and answers. She does not allow a pause to linger after that response, into which might steal an unspoken sense that statement is being compared with action and found less than convincing.
Instead, she lifts a brow and asks with apparent sincerity, "How would you describe those skills?"
"I," Vega starts, losing the battle to fidget to at least some degree (her leg jogging underneath her skirt and hopefully out of sight), "I know how to fence. I am very good with a bow. I speak three languages. I am a powerful force mage, and a link to Tevinter, should you ever need that.
"I have a younger brother—" is not a skill, but proof. Her voice is quickening, spine straightening. "And he is horrible, he is the worst person I know, so I have been gathering information on him, for years, so that I can take him apart when he least expects it. He has no idea."
Yes she seems very stealthy. The first half, though, fencing, archery, languages, that's good. More useful than Yseult might have hoped. The brother--well, it's good that she's been upfront about it. Beyond that, who knows.
"Those are useful skills," she confirms, with a measured nod. Her head is tilted a degree, chin lifted slightly. "Which languages? And how is your brother horrible?"
Yes, they are. Vega seems to feel better, relaxing somewhat, leg stilling. "Tevene," obviously, "Trade and Antivan." She would know more Orlesian had she stayed at home and bore the insufferable weight of her younger brother being the family favourite—
Even thinking about it makes her face feel hot, her pulse race. There is a sharp taste in her mouth.
She swallows before she speaks. "He is afforded opportunities I am not."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shit sorry
Instead, she lifts a brow and asks with apparent sincerity, "How would you describe those skills?"
allg!
"I have a younger brother—" is not a skill, but proof. Her voice is quickening, spine straightening. "And he is horrible, he is the worst person I know, so I have been gathering information on him, for years, so that I can take him apart when he least expects it. He has no idea."
She is also stealthy.
no subject
"Those are useful skills," she confirms, with a measured nod. Her head is tilted a degree, chin lifted slightly. "Which languages? And how is your brother horrible?"
no subject
Even thinking about it makes her face feel hot, her pulse race. There is a sharp taste in her mouth.
She swallows before she speaks. "He is afforded opportunities I am not."