Anwei stroked her throat meditatively, deliberately defocusing her eyes - the giant screens hovering over the audience were showing highlights from the previous match, and they were making her hungry. Very hungry.

"I think I can afford to be generous - after all, I have every faith in my - in Zouichi. So why don't we ask for," she tilted her head, carefully judging just how far back that great feathery sweep of her headgear would make the attendants retreat, "her fine flying beast, all its harness, and a year's worth of food and board." She actually batted her eyelashes - although that might have just been trying to get out the glitter falling into her eyes from the ceiling.

"And you will tip your hat, with the greatest politeness, or I shall have to give you hat-tipping lessons. Harsh lessons." Her eyes went needle-bright on his face, then she leaned forward just enough so that only he could see her eyes, and they softened. You can do this, those eyes said. I have faith on you.

She leaned back again, all ice, and barked, "Go!"