Happy Life
"Hmm," the lord nods. The reply was both measuredly courteous and quite predictable. "That's nothing; perhaps you'll still prove yourself and be able to compare it with today's. So, you're from Florenzan? Here as part of His Prosperity's retinue to conquer the capital and learn the wisdoms?"
"To tell the truth, when I stepped into battle against the Knight of Gloomy Sky, I felt anxious. After all, he is a very formidable and capable warrior. But, by the will of luck and with no small effort, I unexpectedly managed to overcome him. And it seems that in doing so, my luck ultimately played into your hands as well."
"Indeed, life and luck sometimes work in utterly inscrutable ways. I can't wait to see what twist the second contest will throw — truly an unpredictable event. But try to keep Zephyr safe — I heard Lord Candle has changed his mind, though I'm sure he won't lack for targets."
"Well, elder brother, I knew for certain that only Dawnsteel and Gloomy Sky could be worthy of victory in that tournament; I just didn't know which of you would take first and which second, and I sincerely congratulate you!" — Ambrose approaches to congratulate Lester. Of course, he had hoped to win himself, but such things only happen in novels, when a yesterday's nobody suddenly surpasses all his experienced comrades in a tournament. Ambrose added, only for Lester's ears: "And if any problems suddenly arise — I haven't forgotten my ancestors' skills; just tell me if you ever need to verify your squire's loyalty. Of course, I hope it won't come to that..."
"Thank you, brother, I appreciate your words. They carry the dignity and honor of a giant," — Ambrose's sometimes peculiar phrasing fell so pleasantly on the ear that one involuntarily wanted to intone something in a singsong voice — of course, only within one's limited abilities. Lester shakes his comrade's hand. "But ahead of us lies something even more interesting, and the strongest will prevail. Or rather, the craftiest. Looking at the list of participants, some combinations are already coming to mind. We'll keep a cool head. As for the lad — I too hope it won't come to that. I haven't fully figured him out yet," — however, with a nod, he touches his temple with a finger — the thought is received and noted.
Axel approaches Lester and congratulates him on his victory, firmly shaking his hand.
"I won't hide it — I think there should have been one more bout between us. For example, without any gear, just your dagger and my sword. But since the organizer decided so... Besides, I can't say you didn't deserve the victory," — Axel leans close to Lester's ear and whispers. "I'm not one to teach you, but I think this lad is a spy from Florenzan. You'd best keep your ears open around him."
Lester returns the handshake.
"I would have agreed without hesitation. No tricks, just the song of gold and black steel. That would have been a fight. But this isn't our last day; there will be something to strive for," — he heeds the addition. "We think along similar lines. I can't shake the feeling that something is brewing, and rust greedily clings to every uneven surface. You be careful too."
Злобный Ящур
