Theo glanced down at her skirts for a moment, before flicking them back up to her face as she spoke. He was sure she could, but he didn't think that meant the skirt would keep its integrity for the fight. He was familiar enough with his own family's history to know women's fashion was oft cursed by those who preferred the sword, but at least now trousers were the norm rather than an oddity. Even the fully armoured depictions of historical and mythical women in the French manuscripts had them in flowing skirts and dresses.
He lifted the blunted tip of his feder, reaching out with it to catch the hem of the skirts swishing around Ash's legs. “You're a regular La Maupin,” Theo said, just a tinge sardonically, as he lifted the hem a measure more. “But that delicate fabric won't hold up to even blunted steel, but suit yourself. I won't be listening to your whining if it tears.”
He lifted the blunted tip of his feder, reaching out with it to catch the hem of the skirts swishing around Ash's legs. “You're a regular La Maupin,” Theo said, just a tinge sardonically, as he lifted the hem a measure more. “But that delicate fabric won't hold up to even blunted steel, but suit yourself. I won't be listening to your whining if it tears.”