[she'd been mostly teasing, feigning self-centeredness with her nose in the air and her chin held high, but -- roza turns the little tile, shows the face, and alia's mouth drops open a bit, sweetly surprised, blinking between her own image and roza several times.]

-- oh. [genuine, a warmth in her eyes, in the pulse of her mind, her consciousness in the unseen.] You are sweet, aren't you?

[a soft laugh as she turns her own tile -- marazhai -- to end the round, then rests her chin on her hand in thought.] Hmmm, I get a grand prize, do I? Tell me, what are the parameters and procedures? What rules govern my choice?