"Stop fidgeting," Kee Kee grumbled from atop Rui's vanity.
"You've adjusted that sash twelve times already."
Rui smoothed her hands over the crimson training robe, embroidered with subtle gold flames along the sleeves.
The fabric was light but durable, elegant yet practical, a contrast from her usual elaborate gowns.
"I need to look serious," she muttered, pinning her hair into a tight bun.
"Like someone who deserves proper training."
"You look like you're attending a royal garden party, not combat training," Kee Kee snorted, his tiny horns gleaming in the morning light.
Rui frowned at her reflection.
"Who do you think these mentors will be? Madam Yao was frustratingly vague."
"Probably some ancient, humorless war demon who'll make you do push-ups until your arms fall off," Kee Kee yawned, stretching his tiny limbs.
"And maybe that creepy shadow master who trained your father—the one who speaks exclusively in riddles."
