Against a male lead (3)
"Not bad. But desperation doesn't suit you, heir of the Silver Flame."
I twirled my estoc lazily, letting the black flames dance along its edge like mischievous sprites. My smirk deepened as I tilted my head, watching Varen's fiery aura shimmer around him, the heat radiating off him in waves. The crowd was in a frenzy, their cheers and gasps feeding the charged atmosphere, but my attention was wholly on the man before me.
"You really are making this fun," I said my tone light and teasing. "But let's not stay on the defensive all the time, shall we? I'd hate for the crowd to think the heir of the Silver Flame can't handle a little pressure."
The faintest flicker crossed Varen's eyes—an ember of irritation, perhaps, or a spark of resolve igniting into a blaze. His grip on his greatsword tightened, the knuckles whitening, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then, his eyes locked onto mine, shining with a fiery intensity that sent a thrill racing through me.