Ten minutes earlier, Mistblade had been lounging lazily on her throne, staring at two neatly arranged rows of World's Grave Forest tiles displayed across a table made of shifting mist. Her posture was uncharacteristically relaxed—one leg crossed over the other, one hand playing idly with a tile, the other elbow propped on the armrest, her cheek resting against her knuckles.
Such undignified posture didn't suit a monarch, yet something about these tiles made her slouch every time.
Top row:
[1-Dot], [2-Dot], [3-Dot], [4-Dot], [5-Dot], [6-Dot], [9-Dot], [9-Dot], [9-Dot], [7-Dot], [7-Dot], [8-Dot], [8-Dot]
The second row had a similar count but was a chaotic mix of Bamboo, Character, and Wind tiles. There were sequences and pairs, but Mistblade disliked disorder.
Over the years, she had scored a fair share of wins, but today she wanted to complete a Pure Suit.
