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– Well, you’re usually quiet, Libar… – said Caroline.
Ilkesedar gave a meaningful grunt, and the Melchiorian leaned back in his chair.
– I can do anything.
They ate, paid, and headed to the smithy. There, Ilkesedar wanted to place a small order regarding the trophy helmet of Raing. Perhaps, he wanted to slightly repaint it and saw off the horns (the helmet has horns, as I understand?). Of course, in such a way as not to lose the properties of the helmet itself. This made sense from the point of view of conspiracy, and Ilkesedar was also seriously afraid that he would get caught on these horns in battle and get a concussion.