It was the dawn of their winterization trip, and Irene had been too giddy to sleep. At least it didn't reflect in her tenacity going forward, because she still found herself easily getting up and getting into traveling clothing.
Was she supposed to dress up or down? Would they take her seriously if she wore something shabby or otherwise?
She thought of the Royal Knights who were always put together. Whether it be the cleanliness of their armor, the lack of dirt and grime that covered them, finely crafted clothing, or gilded weapons, they were always outshining everyone else on the battlefield.
It was a running joke that they were able to remain so pristine because they never lifted a finger out there. Whether or not it was true was something she would try not to discuss. All she knew was that they never left more of an impression on her than being pretty.
