Audience
"What was he doing?" Hesta frowned. "Was my beating really that dramatic?"
"...Ah, Jane, where are you going—"
Before Eucali could stop her, Hesta was already walking toward Kovishik. He was facing Idrian at the moment and had not noticed Hesta approaching from behind.
"It only looked serious. This little injury was nothing."
"But how did this happen?" Idrian looked somewhat suspicious. "I heard you lost a sword duel last week. Did you get hurt then?"
"Come on, how could that possibly hurt me?" Kovishik said carelessly. "I went riding the very next day, but then I accidentally fell off my horse—"
"You went riding when you were injured that badly?"
A familiar voice came from above. Kovishik's heart sank. Though he could not turn around, he recognized the voice at once.
"Oh." Idrian extended a hand toward Hesta. "We meet again."
The two shook hands briefly, then looked at Kovishik at the same time.
Kovishik felt his face burn, but then he remembered that no one could see his embarrassed expression. He boldly raised his head and looked straight into Hesta's eyes.
"...It was nothing," Kovishik muttered, as though he had a lump of iron in his mouth. "Just a personal habit."
Hesta had originally been suspicious of his injury, but seeing how stubbornly he refused to admit anything, she suddenly realized that whether the injury was real or not, it was a way for him to conceal the wounds he had received in the last duel. Hesta was deeply shocked and studied Kovishik with a strange sense of amusement—his methods of preserving his pride were simply too bizarre to understand.
Kovishik was nearly enraged by Hesta's gaze, but before he could react, Hesta had turned to Idrian. "You know each other?"
"Sir Idrian used to wrestle with