[ The mannequin freezes in the same moment that Lucina does, clearly expecting a blow. When it doesn't come, it huffs a laugh. Then it thrusts a hand to lift Lucina by the throat and hurl her against a nearby wall hard enough to crack the bricks. A needless action by design; this is, after all, a performance to smear reputations and incite reactions, and the presence of that crimson sword naturally means the nearby presence of the person who supplied it.

The mannequin walks after Lucina slowly. At the same time, it dislodges her sword from its side and flips it around to a proper grip, inspecting it properly for the first time. ]

Oh? A teardrop. Just like that symbol in your eye. How... nostalgic.

[ And clearly, a sign of significance between sword and owner. The mannequin smiles at a quaint new thought. ]

It's time I took my leave, but I did so enjoy the chat. I'm even thinking of taking a little souvenir.

[ It gives the sword a deft swipe that stops at an unnatural jerk. ]

Though I could be persuaded to leave it behind. If... you could be persuaded to beg for it, Miss Lucina.