The Tourney at Ashford

After the small welcoming ceremony that Alessia managed to gain entry to she walked back out into town with her things. Finding a post somewhere to lean against as she sat down on a patch of grass that still remained despite the foot traffic.

With her things at her side she looked to the ground, away from the sun, with a pensive expression while she thought on the morning thus far.

Handsome and naive were two words most often used to describe Ser Robar Redding, and those were when the speakers chose to be nice. Foolish and idealistic were two more. He had lofty dreams of combat, aspiring to be a true knight in shining armor! And here he was, at a tourney to celebrate the nameday of a maiden fair! It was as if it were fate then that he would find himself traversing the streets of the castle town and come across--

"An angel!" the words escape his lips and he pauses on the other side of the flow of people, looking across at the wayward young woman who has caught his eye.

It wasn't often that men randomly shouted about an Angel, which was to say that it was enough to pull the young woman from her thoughts in search of the cause. Only to find a young man across the way, looking at her. Casually she checked over her shoulder once to be sure but looked back with a smile born of amusement when she saw no other.

Brushing her hair back and over her left shoulder she pushed herself to her feet, leaving her bag there. Wordless, but it was the strongest way she thought to acknowledge him from across the flow of people.

Her smile gifted him flight! And so he moved to close the distance between them, crossing the stream of folk, who parted for him as he was a man - nay, a knight! - on a mission! And at once he was within touching distance of the earth angel, and yet he would not dare to defile her by touching her.

She was-

"Perfection," he murmured, and then seemed to gather his wits about him. "Forgive me! I am Ser Robar Redding," he bowed so low he almost kissed the ground, and would that he rather kiss the ground then insult her with his brash and uncouth lips.

Crossing an arm across her hip, she rested one hand atop the hilt of the blade that was ever-present at her side. It was adorable, in a way, amusing in more. For his efforts so far he earned a soft chuckle, "Alessia, Ser. You may also consider yourself forgiven."

"Is there something I might be able to help you with Ser Redding?" She asked with a warm smile.

"Alessia," he tasted the name. "It is truly a name befitting of an angel. And to what house does the angel known as Alessia align? I should know to whom I need to get in the good graces of."

He notes her hand on her blade, "Oh, are you skilled?"

"I do not carry it on my hip as a mere fashion statement," she said with a smirk. There was certainly a warmth to her expression, hiding under the light freckles of her cheeks. "You need only impress me, ser."

"Ah, less to stand in the way of you receiving my affections then, my lady fair." Robar seems very pleased with that information, and his chest puffs up a bit!

"Perhaps we could have an opportunity to spar, and I could witness the beauty of your movement wielding such a blade? Whenever you might find the time to spend with one so humble as myself, of course, that is! I long to better my skill, as well, so that I might one day become so great a knight to make it into the history books."

"I would have thought a knight, such as yourself, would have found issue with a woman wearing a blade," she said, unbashful of the truth to the world but her smile showed her appreciation earnestly.

"Tomorrow, then?" she asked with a brow raised.

He appears shocked! "I would not dare to tell a woman what she can or cannot do!"

And with that, he inclines his head, smiling wide and handsomely, his dark eyes glinting. "I would be a fool to deny you, Alessia."

Robar's exclamation caught a light laugh, muffled by a Hand raised to her lips. Looking back was a northern girl with Braavosi stylings, and a smile warm.

"Till tomorrow, Ser," she said, feeling quite like a lady than a sword.

He brightens at her confirmation!

"I will wait with baited breath until I am graced to see you again, and hope that each time will not be the last!"

Leaning down she retrieved her bag, offered one last smile and then stepped off into the stream of people occupying the streets. Sure to let him watch each moment until she was simply, gone.