The night market

Yettiri has just finished her sparring session with Sersi when she notices Yetsune slipping out of the guest residence alone. Her sharp eyes narrow, and she calls out, "Yetsune!"

Yetsune halts mid-step and glances back, her flowing dress swaying gently as she turns. Yettiri strides toward her, the whip at her waist bouncing with each step.

"Where is Erya?" She demands when she's close enough.

Yetsune shifts to face her fully. "Sword training with Arya," she replies, as though she already anticipated the question. "You've just finished with Sersi, haven't you?"

Yettiri's gaze rakes over her sister, scrutinizing every detail—the flower embroidered dress, the careful hairstyle, the subtle perfume wafting from her. Her arms fold across her chest. "You're not sneaking off to see your lover boy, are you?"