Well, to be fair, there'd been no trying about it. He'd succeeded. It just hadn't stuck. She hadn't lost her head, and she got better, so it all worked out.

She snorts, softly, still reading her book. "He tries to kill me every morning we spar." She points out. "He just hasn't gotten lucky yet." Lucky, not skill. Because she can stop him on a dime, just by flirting with him. It's rather amusing.