Not every match that takes place is noteworthy, but the ones that are never fail to make waves and she keeps an especially open ear for whispers relating to her favorite person.
"Lord Leif likes to put on airs," Sara tells the boy with pretty, sage green hair who fits all descriptions of the unlucky competitor to suffer defeat at his hands. If she wasn't still worn out from her own scuffle, an offer to look at his shoulder might have been in order. A smile is passed along to the stranger instead, too fond to appear smug.
"But I am not going to defend his reputation or rub salt in your wounds."
As a matter of fact, it has been some time since Sara fought at his side. While she wasn't there to witness the moment of victory, she had seen the theatrical displays he was capable of in the past, the stunts and athletic flips that served no real practical purpose in combat aside from showing off.
"They're inseparable, those two, so don't feel bad. You didn't really stand a chance against them. He has known Nanna since they were little and she is just as ambitious as him. Perhaps your luck will be better next year."
The girl with shimmering long hair - was she a participating student, too? - approaches Alm without as much of an introduction. With those first two words, Lord Leif, in combination with her proceeding smile despite her own injuries make her purpose of appearance clear.
“It’s fine,” he simply starts, right hand still on his shoulder that threatens to fall in spite of its immediate medical attention. “No offense taken. He’s the one that caught me off-guard anyway.”
While humbling his opponent’s efforts, he ponders over that phrase of “put on airs.” Theatrics-wise, Leif was pretty good at acting in that cage and all, but when it comes to fights? In the same cage, there wasn’t really any grace in his movements. If anything, he was fitting the role of fighting to the death rather seriously, that was all. Nothing to put on airs about it. Same for today, where the heavy wooden staff just clocked him straight out of the mock battle.
The girl isn’t done, providing even more context that Alm had no chance of knowing prior to their fight. This “Nanna” she speaks of must be one of those adjacent to Leif, and probably not the overly eager man on the Golden Deer’s side.
So he has someone precious to him as well? Alm would smile to himself, if his shoulder wasn’t being a pain in the ass. Instead, he gives the best weak smile he can in response to the explanation. “Putting it that way, it really does sound like crummy luck. But I’m not too mad at losing to him, if he really had the whole world backing him up. I’m sure on more equal footing…”
Memories of the two boys having at it with their hands, not even weapons, actually does force a giggle out of the king. “Next year. I look forward to it.”
He silently excuses himself, the pain of his shoulder finally winning over an additional trip to the medical tents. Unfortunate, as not only does such an excuse force him unable to ask about her relation to Leif, but he is left without even her name. Well, surely if she can suddenly appear to him one day…the same can occur the next.
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