Inside the room stood Francis, stripped of his outerwear, engaged in a series of stretches. Judging by the beads of sweat cascading down his form and the disarray of the room, Geirhild discerned that Francis had been diligently exercising throughout the night.
"Didn't I tell you that you should sleep at night," Geirhild said. "Humans are really stupid, they think they can achieve things instantly."
"I know, I know," he replied, his voice tinged with exhaustion but also a hint of determination. "But you know me, I just couldn't resist."
Beside Francis stood Rudy, the short red-haired man, Francis's personal knight, clad in his official knight attire. "I told his highness," Rudy interjected, exasperating, "but he didn't listen."
"Sorry, I just couldn't sleep last night," Francis replied, his tone carrying a hint of nonchalance in response to Geirhild's scorn. He stepped closer, extending his hand towards her. "How's the sword? Is it done well?"
