—The make-up update is here, please cast your monthly tickets!~
"Huh?" Carlina didn't quite understand what he meant, her gaze filled with confusion.
Lucian continued in a perfectly serious tone: "But I think we're better suited as friends."
"Oh?" Carlina's expression went somewhat blank, her face cycling through several emotions before she finally said with a touch of sorrow, "I'm truly sorry then. I must have troubled you, Mr. Peter."
There seemed to be the faintest shimmer of moisture at the corner of her eyes. Her mournful, plaintive appearance could have moved most men, but Lucian simply smiled gently and said, "I'm very touched by your kind feelings toward me, but you're not quite the type I'm drawn to. I'm afraid I can only refuse with my apologies."
The dance was drawing to a close. Carlina lowered her head, and two pearl-like teardrops traced elegant arcs as they fell onto the carpet.
She spoke in a nasally voice, as though her nose were stuffed: "I know I'm just a widow — hardly a match for a promising knight like you, Mr. Peter. Regardless, I just wanted to let you know how I feel. You've given me a moment I'll never forget. Thank you for dancing the opening dance with me. You're always welcome to visit Ural City in the future."
The music stopped. Carlina spun around and left abruptly.
She kept her head down the entire way, not letting anyone see her expression. This drew hostile glares toward Lucian from Balshak and the others who had been closely watching the situation. They abandoned their dance partners one after another, wanting to go console Carlina, but they were a step too late — she had already entered the ladies' dressing and powder room partitioned off in a corner on the ground floor and locked the door behind her.
"Hmph." Balshak glared at Lucian, unsure whether he should feel pleased or furious. Either way, there was a sour taste in his mouth — the woman he had been pursuing so diligently had just been so carelessly rejected by this man.
But given Lucian's strength as a knight, neither Balshak nor any of the others dared challenge him to a duel on the spot. They were hot-blooded young men, to be sure, but that didn't mean they were foolish enough to seek their own deaths. This suited Lucian just fine.
Inside the dressing room, Carlina lifted her head. Her lovely face was flush with fury, her white, even teeth clenched and chattering. "I'm a good person? We're better as friends? He's touched by my feelings? Damn that bastard — does he think I'd actually want him?! Once this business is settled, I'll make him understand the meaning of regret!"
In the underground cells behind the estate, Miaka — transformed into a winter bear — groaned and came to, finding his companion Nyak right beside him.
"Phew, you're finally alive again." Nyak put away a small case filled with various potions.
Miaka asked groggily, "How did I end up here?"
"Miaka, what on earth were you doing back there? I told you to feign defeat — not to get yourself killed! Even if he's a proper knight, you turned into a winter bear with knight-level strength. How did he manage to cut you up like that?" Nyak asked, utterly unable to make sense of it. At the time, he had stood stunned for a full minute, feeling like he was watching some absurd comedy unfold before his eyes.
Miaka painfully reached up to touch his head. "He seems to be a knight who specializes in speed and agility. When that sword came at me, I had absolutely no way to dodge. All I could do was rely on my fur to tank the hit, and then I blacked out. I have no idea what happened after that. Aren't winter bears supposed to have strong defenses? Can't they withstand attacks from a Second-level Knight?"
"It seems that sword of his is at least a high-grade Second-level arcane magic longsword. We completely underestimated his strength. I need to report this to the sir." Only then did Nyak realize that a serious intelligence error had nearly turned a heroic rescue into a catastrophe.
Having retouched her makeup, Carlina reignited the ball's atmosphere with a warm and alluring smile. But each time she saw Lucian, she merely gave a faint nod without saying anything more — as if the entire "confession" had been nothing but a figment of the imagination.
This put Lucian somewhat at ease. He was just a passing "conman" with no illusions about making his fortune or finding romance here. He could only hope they would shift their attention elsewhere.
When the ball ended, Carlina arranged for the guests to stay in the guest rooms on the upper floors of the main house, intending to send them back to the city the next morning.
Lucian fastened his evening coat and went to the small parlor next door to find "Butler" Leo, who had been waiting there — only to discover, to his surprise, that Leo was gone!
After a sweep of the room turned up nothing, Lucian was about to use his psychic field to search when Leo emerged from behind a decorative pillar in the corner. "Master, the ball is over?"
His wrinkled face was slightly contorted, as though he were forcibly suppressing something, while simultaneously carrying a fear he himself could not detect.
"Leo, what's wrong?" Lucian noticed that the butler and attendants who had been waiting in the small parlor had all followed their masters to the guest rooms, leaving the space entirely empty, so he asked in a low voice.
Leo gestured to Lucian with his eyes. "Master, you look a bit tired. Why don't you head back to your room and rest early?"
"Very well." Lucian smiled and nodded cooperatively.