Her delicate golden hair flowed with grace, her noble features were stunning, her skin white and smooth like ice and snow, and her facial contours were gentle and clean—as if she were a young lady sheltered in the depths of her family's chambers, no one would doubt that claim. They might even feel pity for her, dressed in armor and marching off to battle, ready to hold her back with open arms.
Yet, one look into those clear, pure blue eyes, one gaze met with her serious yet tender expression, and one would understand—she was not merely playing at being a Knight; she was someone who bore a burden into battle.
(Maybe... this person is worthy of trust.)
Rosetta clasped the girl's hand.
"...Ah... uh... I have already... done my best..."
With each word spoken, blood bubbled from her mouth, threatening to block her airway, and the simple act of speaking seemed to drain her of her last reserves of strength.
The girl squeezed Rosetta's hand back, nodding vigorously.
