Anya staggered backward.
"Ah—"
She looked up.
The person she had bumped into was a young female knight. Her hair was neatly tied, her armor slim yet clearly refined—not that of an ordinary soldier.
The knight immediately dipped her head slightly.
"My apologies, little lady."
Anya hugged the papers to her chest,
then gave a small nod.
"Un."
She bowed awkwardly.
"Iron Knight will excuse herself."
Without waiting for a response, Anya ran toward Geralt.
Her steps were small—quick, hurried.
—
The female knight frowned.
"…Iron Knight?"
Her brows furrowed.
She turned her head, following the direction Anya ran.
It's been a long time since I heard that nam—
Her thought stopped short.
Her eyes widened.
She saw it clearly—
the paper in the little girl's hands.
A faint, round seal reflected the light of the setting sun.
That was no ordinary paper.
The knight stepped forward once.
That little girl… is carrying an important document?
