Chapter 67: The March of Honors
One day, Olfred came to find me, his face grave but tinged with a satisfied gleam.
He told me that the crystals had been found, that the beast had been slain, and that, in recognition of these successes, the lord was planning to organize a ceremony in my honor.
An official reward, laden with pomp and politics, where it would not only be a matter of gratitude, but also of alliances, weighted glances, and silent promises.
The visible part of a debt that was never truly forgotten.
That day, I had laid down my weapons, abandoning for a time the harshness of the warrior.
I had taken care to shave, to trim my beard precisely, and to discipline my unruly hair.
When I finally looked at myself, dressed in my kimono with elegant and sober lines, I easily recognized the effort made to conform to the finery.
At my side, Lysara walked with fierce grace, dressed also in a kimono — or rather a fine armor, recently forged for her, hugging the shape and elegance of a traditional garment with almost supernatural precision.
Together, we advanced, no longer simply as warriors, but as figures sculpted for the stage that awaited us.
Olfred’s staff had taken great care to prepare her appearance.
They had made her up with meticulous precision, highlighting without burdening the delicacy of her features.