Truth, honor and effort are all principles that Brienne upholds. It's safe to say she is being very, unfairly judgmental. This is what happens when world's collide. Clashing ideologies, personalities and passions. Have they truly even exchanged more than a handful of words though? Frea is what they have in common.

Her bare fingers beneath Frea's loosen up on the hilt. And for a moment her eyes downcast as though reprimanded. There shall be no battle here. At least none started by her hands. One better believe if it were to start she'd hope to finish it.

"Simply Han," she gives it a try too. Enough to try to iron out the scowl in her brow. It doesn't meet her blue, blue eyes and she doesn't trust her mouth to do more than speak as she bids it. Baby steps. "So it shall be."

Dancing? Now? Can it even be possible? Brienne steps aside, but not far from the touch of the May Queen's hand. "Go, I shall follow." To better defend from the rear and hope to collect herself enough to dance.