[Soon enough has her face splitting on a wide grin, because unlike him she has no compunctions about carrying her sword wherever she goes, nor about being seen wielding it. She's sure the other eight Houses must have been able to flaunt themselves at their stuffy show duels all the time, if her experience in Canaan House was anything to go by. For her there had ever been the rheumy eye of Marshall Crux, or Aiglamene's stony tutelage, along with the reems of monstrous dead and the occasional swish of dark skirts when Harrowhark deigned to spy on her. Getting to practice with new people, getting to see someone fight who she feels fairly sure won't be bound by regal rules and stuffy practices fills her with an uncommon delight. Her drink goes forgotten for the moment, so swept up in thought of it is she.

But then he mentions the other side, and there's a small crinkle of her brow until his meaning snaps into place for her, quick and sharp.]

Ohhhh, that place!

[That place, where she'd also be able to feel the solid, sparkling weight of her own two-hander again, the cold pleasure of pure Ninth House steel pressed once again against her calloused palms. Something in her face visibly brightens at the thought.]

I didn't think of that. I haven't been back since the first time. It was weird there, you know? But I'd so be down to get a look at your sword.