"It iss," she agreed, and fought the urge to flop back into the cocoon of blankets and warmth. All her life, she and mornings never got along. And their adversarial status only worsened when she had the allure beyond blankets, a whole other body, to keep her stilled and lazy.
But his recovery was more important than her desire to stay cuddled up. And she knew his schedule. A brief sparring session wasn't the only thing on his agenda today, and if she started the domino effect of being late from one appointment to the next, it only meant he wouldn't get to his evening rest on time and it would all be bad.
"In that order?" She asked, and pushed herself up to sit, idly running her fingers along the rise of the blankets where he lay.
"Of course Tal," she frowned at him, opened her mouth to say more, and clicked her teeth shut. She'd almost said
I'm not Jon. She didn't need to. She didn't need to proclaim she wasn't Talin either.
Agonizingly slow, she pulled herself out of bed, took a few steps, then thought better of it and turned right back around, launching back to the mattress.
Who cared if he was a little later to his appointments? They were all there for him anyway. Being a
Duke had to come with some perks!
Later,
The first time she'd seen the sparring area, she'd gasped. Even now, she felt a little awestruck. It was gorgeous. A wide expanse of polished synthwood flooring gleamed under the soft golden wash of recessed lighting, each plank perfectly fitted and shock-absorbing to spare even the most fragile joints. Holo-projectors, discreetly set into the vaulted walls, could conjure entire landscapes in an instant. From desert heat shimmering off phantom dunes, to the shifting weightlessness of simulated zero-G.
Along one side, a mirrored duraglass wall doubled as a tactical display, able to overlay real-time performance metrics in Aurebesh: Heart rate, oxygen intake, microsecond reaction speeds before fading to flawless reflection again. And the air? Crisp and cool with a faint citrus tang from the purifier arrays.
On the far wall, a metallic inlay of House Lota caught the light like liquid silver. State-of-the-art sparring drones were docked in recessed charging bays, their matte-black plating free of a single scuff, while a bank of medical scanners and auto-dispensers stood ready with cooling compresses, dermal sealant, and electrolyte blends. Even the mats were threaded with micro-sensors to record impact force, stance stability, and electromagnetic detection of who stood upon them.
"Alright," her arms stretched above her head, locking a hand over her wrist and tilting to the side with a satisfying pull while she kicked off her shoes and socks next to the mat.
"No accessories for now, just you, me, 'n the mats."
And, since this was meant to test his reflexes, Tansu didn't let him go first.
Her feet padded soundlessly across the sensor-woven mat. She closed the distance fast and dipped low as if to feint for his left leg. Then she snapped upward, twisting her hips to drive an open palm toward his shoulder in a clean, jolting strike meant to shove him off balance. She wanted to see if he could read her hips, catch her wrist, or take the hit and roll with it.
Her grin flickered quick and bright as the motion carried through.
"C'mon, Your Grace, lesee that you're awake."
____________________________________________________________
Talsin Lota
____________________________________________________________
