"Thank you, my lady," was Loras' very charismatic answer. He genuinely appreciated when others recognized his talents.
To say that Loras was the best would have been overstating his position. There were others, although few, who were better than he was; those were the ones he simply did not fight. Loras Tyrell could play dirty, and that was what had made him wealthy and why, at nineteen, he had this house and the car in the garage.
Yes, he had something to be proud of.
Loras gave the katana a twirl that made the metal wink in the light. "What kind of sword do you have in your dreams?" he asked her as he tucked the blade against his forearm and handed it to her, handle first, as was proper when passing a katana.