“I cannot accept,” Kishirra said, trying to change topic. “I already...”

“It is I who cannot accept,” I replied with a frown, putting all the seeds inside her palm and wrapping her hand with mine. It was a clear message, wasn’t it? And it wasn’t like I was sort of panicking because even in this state her skin was just so warm and smooth. “I can’t accept you coming here in that state. You are our most important customer. We'd rather you not risk your health. Now please eat those seeds and let me take a look at the state of your brigandine.”

She blinked. Did I come off as arrogant? Did I just… offend her?

“I suppose speeding up my recovery would be useful for your business as well...” she muttered, putting the lilythorn to her lips.

She seemed to be fine with using it now. Good. Maybe I could save this without making a fool of myself.

In doing so she had to withdraw her hand from mine – but it wasn’t like I was trying anything weird on her! It was just that she was an Elf, and a Knight, and...

“This is the current state of my armour,” she said pulling me back into a proper train of thoughts, her cheeks already flushed dark as the lilythorn seeds started to have their healing effect on her. She unwrapped her black brigandine, revealing her shirt and her, uh, svelte waist underneath.

Uhm... it wouldn’t be right if she were the only one to blush, would it?

“I see...” and then the blushing turned into wincing. Almost every plaque riveted to the inside of her brigandine got cracked, and half of them were broken, uselessly hanging from their hooks.

A little grunt of pain escaped the Elf’s dark lips as she finished removing her protective clothing, letting it fall on the ground.

“It is far worse than the other times,” I sighed, picking up the jacket to take a better look. Even the plaques that had been left intact were somewhat dislodged from their sockets, and we would need to reapply the rivets to make them safe. It was the kind of work that took at least a week to complete, and in the meantime... “I will see what we could do to give it back to within three days.”

“I cannot stop for three days.”

“Maybe you should.” I tilted my head towards her torso. Kishirra’s arms were quite fit, but even like that they were clearly shivering a bit. An Elf’s body must be different from our own, but that couldn’t just be because of her peculiar constitution. She shook her head, taking deep breaths as the seeds’ effect rippled through her body. She seemed to gain a little more colour to her cheeks, at least.

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“You do not understand. It is not my decision to make.” She wrapped her fingers around her sun-pendant, and I lowered my gaze, defeated. Seeing our resident Knight so battered made me feel... it was a weird and unpleasant sensation, like a hook that’s tugging my stomach down. “But I appreciate your concern. Nobody usually...” her smooth voice trailed off and she stiffly waved her other hand, trying not to move her shoulder too much. “Never mind. Three days, you said?”

“I can’t do it any quicker.” A glance at the growing reeds in the garden confirmed my fear. It wasn’t easy to manufacture tetrarmide, even the weaker and cheaper version we could make with our forge here. Over the months, I had seen Kishirra’s original, far-superior plaques chip, break and shatter one by one.

Those had been made in Madua and given to her by her Order – we couldn’t make them as sturdy or as light as something that came from the Holy Land.

But we could aim for something that was good enough.

“I will try to do my best in the meantime then. I thank you for your help. I understand I have been putting pressure on you. If you need to charge a higher price for such a pressing request–”

“It’s fine,” I waved my hand. “Price is the same. You can pay us when you come back.”

That seemed to give her pause. She reminded me of a stray cat I tried to befriend, during my second childhood in this new world. It was feisty and skittish and never allowed me to pet it, but it did accept a bowl of milk when I left it out of the door.

Lady Kishirra did look a lot like that kitten, with her fingers trembling slightly as her cheeks flushed even harder.

It might just be the effects of the lilythorn seeds, but...

“A perk of being a returning customer, I suppose.”

“Something like that,” I encouraged her with a smile. She studied my face, and once more I shied away from those grey eyes. Seriously, looking people in the face was the worst – and Kishirra’s face was beautiful enough to hurt.

But then she nodded and stood up proud, tucking her sun pendant behind her shirt.

“Please do take care, Madama Kishirra.”

“There is Who is taking care of me,” she replied with a nod.

It was hard to argue against that when, according to Dad’s stories, the fire-priests of Ansàrra could heal a strained ankle in a day rather than the weeks it would take naturally, or help to keep your wounds closed... but I still felt like there was something in that line I didn’t grasp completely.

Kishirra was a bit of an enigma. Best customer or not, I only saw her here at the workshop, and nobody in Bùrian seemed to know much about her at all. She has just showed up one day, and she kept to herself.

The last time I tried to ask her about what kind of enemy she was actually fighting, and why she left for days on end, she clamped up like a blonde-haired oyster.

A bright deed shines by its own light, was everything I managed to pry off her sealed lips.

I sighed taking another look at the ripped and damaged armour. I needed to spend less time daydreaming about her motivations and more picking up the right plants and roots if I wanted to actually help her...

“Thank you for coming again,” I replied – it was a dry way to tell her goodbye. I already told her to take care, and it felt like my words would slide off her icy exterior like oil on glass.

The left corner of her mouth curved in the ghost of a smile, though.

Maybe it was enough – at least for now.