Thanks to the robust physique granted by knightly training, and the timely cold compress treatment from Astrid, Lyra's wounds had completely healed. Aside from a few crimson spots scattered between her skirt and white thigh-highs, resembling red plum blossoms in snow, the pink-haired girl, who had released her armor and recalled her holy sword, no longer looked like a knight fresh from the battlefield.
Changing her sitting posture suddenly, Lyra lowered her body, supporting herself on the soft bed with folded arms, her sapphire eyes fixed on the nearby porthole, completely unaware that her current position was rather improper, especially with someone else present.
Her pale-white blouse, shifted forward by her leaning upper body, revealed a fair stretch of smooth waist and abdomen. Bathed in warm light, the elegant curves of the pink-haired knight were fully visible within Astrid's cool crimson gaze.
