Yet Miranda pretended not to notice, forcing him to keep up the work entirely on his own. They had been close friends since childhood. She was more than used to his bad days. His temper didn’t scare her in the least. He had been foulmouthed from the start, so that was no change, and she knew full well that he wasn’t the kind of man to lash out violently just because he was upset. From Miranda’s perspective, there was nothing to be afraid of.
Despite all that, Miranda did feel a little guilty seeing the stress he was under, and so decided a good helping of his niece’s attention was just what he needed. “We were just talking about you, Ryne. It seems like the person who treated this man’s arm used your technique to do so.”
“Oh, really?” was all he said as he slumped lazily back in his chair. A maid placed some tea—warm, not hot, as his sensitive tongue required—in front of him.
“Apparently his arm almost got cut off about ten years ago, and someone reconnected it for him. Do you remember doing it?” Misha asked, evidently quite invested in the story.
Giving her a quick glance, Ryne shrugged. “Not really. I’ve been to lots of places, so I’ve treated a lot of people.” But Misha’s passion finally got through to him, so he sat up straight and beckoned Geord over. “Here, can I take a look?”
Geord got up without hesitation, showing off his arm to yet another stranger. Despite his rough manner of speech, Ryne’s hands were quite gentle as he inspected Geord’s arm. He went through the same procedure as Nel, asking Geord to do all sorts of tests with his arm and hand, before giving a thorough inspection of the scar line.
“Oh, yeah, this is definitely my work. But damn, the scarring is terrible. The skin here is still so stiff,” Ryne muttered to himself before staring hard at Geord’s face. “Nah, sorry. Still don’t remember you one bit. But hey, looks like you’ve made quite the life for yourself since we last met. Good for you.”
As Ryne smiled at him, Geord responded by biting at his lip, as if struggling to contain something. He then pulled his arm back, taking Ryne’s hand and dropping to his knees, bowing so his head touched Ryne’s hands.
“Because you saved me... Because you saved my arm, I’ve been able to protect so many people that are important to me. Thank you.” With the way he bowed his head, it was impossible to see his face, but no one had any trouble gauging how he felt from the tremble in his voice.
“Sure,” Ryne said quietly, giving only a small nod to avoid ruining the moment. Geord didn’t move for a long while, keeping his forehead pressed to Ryne’s hands.
Misha gulped, entranced by the scene. After so long, Geord had finally been able to express his gratitude. Misha felt there was something remarkably precious in those words.
For a while, the room was quiet, but the one to finally break the silence was Ryne himself. “So, should I fix that arm for you?” Ryne grinned, pulling his hand out of Geord’s grip.
“Fix it...?” Geord looked up in confusion, not understanding what Ryne meant.
“Yeah. If you overdo it with your arm, your fingers start to go numb and you lose grip strength, right?”
“Uh...” Geord was stunned. He had kept those side effects hidden from everyone, but Ryne had pinpointed them so precisely.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. There was a lot I didn’t know ten years ago. I thought I was missing some of the important nerves when I was reconnecting them. I could do a better job for you now, if you like.”
Sensing something ominous in Ryne’s grin, Geord retreated a bit, still on his knees.
“So you mean...you’d cut it off again?” Misha asked.
“Yeah, that’s the fastest way. Luckily we have Old Man Nel and the others here, so there’s no shortage of help. We’ve got plenty of anesthetics and painkillers too. I won’t be able to stay for your rehabilitation, but Toma will be around, so he’ll take care of you,” Ryne replied brightly, as if he were discussing a walk in the garden. All the while, Geord continued scurrying backward, hiding his arm from sight.
“Oh, that sounds like a great idea. I’ve never had the chance to see it done in person,” Nel said, appearing behind Geord to put his hands on the poor guard’s shoulders and hold him in place. Geord jumped from the sudden contact.
“Would you mind if I watched too?” Misha raised her hand hesitantly, knowing full well that they might not want to share one of their secrets with her yet.
“Wait, wait, wait! Hold on a second. My arm is perfectly fine! Why are we so set on cutting it off again?!” Geord began to protest. He knew if he didn’t say anything, something terrible was about to happen to him.
“If you’ve got lingering side effects, we should fix them, right? I don’t have a strong memory of it, but it’s my work, so I should take responsibility. In fact, while I’m in there, why don’t I reinforce the bone so it’s harder to break?”
Ryne’s surprise at Geord’s protest made it clear he wasn’t acting maliciously and was in fact trying to be generous, but Geord nevertheless wanted to shout back, “That’s not the problem!” That said, he did owe this man his life. It was difficult to just refuse him outright, so...
“Oh, looks like it’s time for my meeting with Ryan. Have a nice break, everyone,” he declared in a perfect monotone, slipping out from Nel’s grasp and dashing out of the room.
“Wait! Geord!” Misha evidently wanted to say something more, but Geord had no interest in hearing her out. Once he was caught up in her curiosity, he had no confidence he could shake her off. And he had no desire to be their experiment.
Sorry, my arm is perfectly fine how it is. You’ll have to hold on to that curiosity until you see someone who really needs the help! he thought, racing down the halls as fast as he could without outright running.
“Aw, he left.” Misha returned, having run to the door to try and stop him.
Miranda sighed. “I know you’re not used to being thanked like that, but you didn’t have to scare the poor guy.”
Ryne just shrugged with a smile. “I wasn’t really joking. If he can’t properly grip his weapon because of exhaustion, that’s a real issue for a knight. If he gets involved in a protracted battle, it could cost him his life. Things are peaceful right now, so taking three to six months off to rest should be perfectly fine, right?”
Miranda’s eyes widened at the unexpectedly serious response. “I thought you just wanted to show off your skills to Misha.”
“Well, there’s that too. Seeing someone’s arm cut off and reconnected would be a good experience for her, right?”
“Uncle Ryne...” As much as Misha had been excited at the prospect, she didn’t want to push Geord into something he didn’t want, so hearing that Ryne had been serious about it was a bit alarming.
“But fine. He’s allowed to decline if he doesn’t want the treatment.” Ryne laughed before draining his tea and asking for a refill.