Ana Sofia takes her time choosing an outfit for dinner, wanting to make the best impression on the two men who awaited her arrival. She opts for a dress that is both elegant and alluring, with a tantalizingly low-cut neckline and a form-fitting silhouette. She let her hair loose and applied perfume on the warm points of her body the scent of a warm vanilla. She had planned to look every bit like a seductress, and she knew it. With one last look in the mirror, Ana Sofia takes a deep breath and heads down to the dining hall. Her nerves alighted with the implications that the dinner may cause but, she knew she had to capitalize the evening using her femininity and cleverness.
As she enters, the dining hall she sees both the men sitting patiently in their plush chairs Wesleynard quickly shoots up from his chair. His eyes widen subtly as he takes on the full nature of Ana Sofia's attire.
She looked every bit like a goddess amongst men. He approaches cautiously, "My queen, you look stunning this evening." Wesleynard says, bowing slightly as he takes in more of Ana Sofia. His eyes linger on her neckline for a moment before he catches himself and looks back up at her face. Her dark eyes drew him even deeper into her ploy.
"Thank you, Wesleynard, you look great yourself." She responded keep her airs in check.
She lets him guide her to her seat, she plasters a small, pleasant smile on her face as she takes in her surroundings at the dinner table. The aroma of dinner and fresh candles enhance the lush romantic atmosphere. Sir Ralthone, who had been watching the exchange with a careful eye, rises from his seat as Ana Sofia approaches. He, too, takes a moment to appreciate her appearance before offering a polite bow.
"My queen, you are looking radiant this evening," he says, his voice smooth and measured.
"Aren't I the luckiest woman in the world tonight?" she teased at their monotonous, clearly rehearsed compliments.
She could tell the stark differences between the two men, and she was determined to deepen their divide. She had caught herself earlier being foolish after making amends with Wesleynard. She swore she felt the ice surrounding her heart crack a mere centimeter. She hastily shut down the sensation. Wesleynard's cheeks flush slightly at Ana Sofia's teasing, but he quickly recovers and takes his seat. The dinner conversation begins, and the men take turns engaging Ana Sofia in conversation. They politely exchanged easy topics regarding the tournament as the evening wore on but, Ana Sofia felt she had yet, to unveil their true natures mulling over ideas in her head to spice things up she decided for an easy target their egos. As the dinner conversation continues, Ana Sofia takes a sip of her wine and sets the glass down with a deliberate gesture. She turns to Wesleynard, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Wesleynard, I've been meaning to ask you," she begins, her voice dripping with feigned innocence.
"Yes, my queen?" Wesleynard responds, his brow furrowed in confusion. He can sense that Ana Sofia is about to say something unexpected, but he is not sure what it is. He gives her his full attention to display his absolute devotion to her. Ana Sofia leans forward, resting her arms on the table leaning.
"I was wondering." She pauses for a moment, savoring the anticipation, warping her smile into a tiny smirk, "Who do you think would win in a fight between you and Sir Ralthone?"
Wesleynard blinks in surprise, taken aback by the sudden change in topic. He glances over at Sir Ralthone, who is watching the exchange with a carefully neutral almost bored expression.
"And be honest, I know you tend to remain humble" she giggled while stealing a glance at Ralthone.
She could see his face twitch but, she pushed even further feeling her stomach churn from fear and a sick delight. Wesleynard takes a deep breath, considering the question, "Well, my queen," he begins, his voice steady and measured. "Sir Ralthone is a skilled fighter, there is no doubt about that. But I like to think that I hold my own in a fight."
She raised a brow watching as the men shifted uncomfortably, "So what you are really saying is that you would win?" she deduced.
Weslaynard hesitates for a moment, taken aback by the directness of Ana Sofia's question. He glances over at Sir Ralthone, who is watching the exchange with no change in expression. After a moment of internal debate, Wesleynard finally responds.
"I suppose that is what I am saying, my queen." He concludes.
Ana Sofia's eyes light up with excitement as Wesleynard admits his confidence in his fighting skills. She turns to Sir Ralthone, a playful smile on her lips.
"And what about you, Sir Ralthone? Do you think you could take Weslaynard in a fight?"
Sir Ralthone meets Ana Sofia's gaze, his own eyes betraying a flash of annoyance at being put on the spot. He sighs, his face smoothing out into a mask of polite indifference.
"Speaking truthfully." He smirked as he continued, "There is no outcome in which I wouldn't win."
"Such Confidence from you Sir Ralthone." She playfully gasped.
She could already feel the energy shifting at a rapid speed in the air as she turned to Wesleynard, exited to edge him to the point of no return.
"Perhaps, Sir. Wesleynard could take some confidence lessons from you. I dare say that would make him less boring. right?"