Fortunately, Araceli's clothes tend to be cut to allow her to move easily so when she starts flexing her muscles (slim and toned, not really anything to actually see and there's a lot more in her legs than her arms) they don't pinch or pull too tight. Not so much the more tailored corseted part. "Hurts," she wheezes through giggles, fanning her face and wiping her face. "Breathing. Always breathing."

Swimmer's lungs and bard drills rescue her.

"He has to duel to truly be one," Araceli continues once she's recovered enough for real speech. "Don't tell me you aren't intrigued by the prospect of such a display of passion, of prowess?"

(Nothing is hotter than someone getting in a duel for you, she's been reliably informed on the subject. Now just to get Korrin involved in something that requires she defend Araceli's honour.) Smiling at Christine as she fishes out a small cloth to dab at her face, Araceli finds herself touched again at having someone who cares for her, who does worry. Christine was one of the first to greet her and to show her kindness in Thedas, something she's done time and time again.

"I am not about to let all your hard work on me go to-" What is this now? When the ladies lunch the boys will have a cheeky clatter?

"Ladrón!" Lux turns an inch at one of his nicknames but scarfs a whole sandwich before racing after his new friend. "That little shit, he's going to be a very real stole when I'm done with him." The rest devolves into Castilean insults as Araceli races to try and cut the pair off.