"Nothing, nothing. I just accidentally knocked over the ink bottle and stained the hem I'd just washed, so I couldn't help crying out..."
The guard at the door eyed Renato suspiciously as he sat beside the desk. His gaze lingered on the tall noble swordsman for two seconds, then shifted to the sheet of parchment spread across the desktop. Finding nothing unusual, he could only turn to Rafada, who was scratching his head, and slowly nod before saying:
"Master Rafada, forgive my intrusion. I heard you shouting and thought something had happened, so I pushed the door open."
"Since everything is all right, I'll return to my post. If you need anything, just open the door and call for me. I'm stationed at the corner of the third corridor..."
Once the guard had confirmed there were no signs of an argument or a fight, the heavy wooden door closed from outside. The footsteps of boot heels striking the floor receded, each softer than the last, until they vanished into the depths of the corridor.
The boy let out a long breath, and all the tension abruptly drained from his face. He wiped the fine beads of sweat from his forehead with his left hand, glared at the unfamiliar northern noble across from him, and said through gritted teeth, stressing every word:
"I sent him away for you and explained everything..."
"Can you let go of my hand now, Sir Re-na-to?"
As Renato had expected, the mage's shout had alerted the guard in the corridor after all. To prevent unnecessary trouble, the moment footsteps sounded outside the door, Renato had used the desktop as cover to forcibly pull Rafada's wrist beneath it. At the same time, he had lowered his voice and curtly ordered him to send the guard away.
Though