It was a simple part of the plan but the most fragile. She had to be sure this creature would actually fight her. It had to be believable. If it turned out he was just some sniveling sellsword Johan had picked up, then what would happen during the fight would become altogether too obvious. She had to be sure he would actually fight and try to win. To this effect, she had cornered him and started attacking his pride, goading him, daring him to run. He didn’t and she found herself on the receiving end of some pointed barbs herself, enough that he had genuinely riled her up after getting under her feathers, but she had challenged him and looked into his eyes when she had him pinned to the wall by his neck. He wouldn’t run now; he wanted this fight; he wanted to win, if not for his duty to Johan, then just to spite her, if nothing else.