Looking in the direction from which the two voices had come, the group was greeted by a scene that could only be described as comical.
The short elf Emeralda was running toward them while shouting "Master!", all while carrying the much taller Lars in her arms like a princess. Lars himself was also shouting "Master!" as they approached.
Lucas did his absolute best not to burst out laughing. Aislyra, however, showed no such restraint and laughed openly.
Brasto, on the other hand, merely watched the bizarre spectacle with a small smile forming beneath his beard.
"Hello, Emeralda—and well done on your first match. Lars, I see that Minister Scuro gave you quite a beating," the veteran adventurer said, finishing his remark with a thunderous laugh.
"Thank you, Master Brasto, but defeating that pig is nothing to be proud of. He was such an insignificant opponent that I could have beaten him even before I became a Ranger," Emeralda replied confidently as she gently set Lars down on his feet. The boy struggled to remain standing. As he straightened up, she noticed Aislyra nearby and shot her a sharp glare—but the princess seemed entirely unaffected.
A faint blush of embarrassment appeared on Lars's face.
He immediately bowed—though the movement clearly caused him pain—and said loudly, "MASTER BRASTO! I sincerely apologize for ignoring your advice and deciding to participate in this tournament anyway, only to be defeated so easily in the very first match, thereby risking damage to your reputation as a master!" His voice was filled with genuine remorse.
The smile on Brasto's face softened into one of deep kindness.
"Lars, you should know that things like my reputation or my honor mean very little to me. You should never worry about such matters in any situation where you might be defeated. Besides, I don't believe your match was anything to be ashamed of. You fought very well against Minister Scuro—it was simply too soon for you to face such an opponent."
He paused before continuing warmly.
"Of course, even though it's obvious you gave it your all, there are still many things you can improve. So if you wish, once the tournament is over and we return to Leore, I'll train you until you're spitting blood—focusing especially on the weaknesses I noticed during your match."
His voice carried a mixture of kindness and something very close to paternal affection.
"Thank you very much, Master Brasto… but the fact remains that I ignored your advice. I don't think I deserve either your praise or the training you are offering," Lars replied quietly, his shoulders slumped.
Brasto looked directly into his student's eyes.
"Lars, you must not feel guilty. What I gave you was advice, not an order. And to be honest, now that I think about it, I may have been too protective. Instead of telling you not to participate, I should have encouraged you to join this tournament. Whether you won or lost, the experience would have been invaluable—and you would not be standing here burdened by guilt."
A trace of regret colored his voice.
"Master…" Lars whispered, his voice trembling as if it might break.
Brasto patted the boy firmly on the back in an attempt to lift his spirits. Then his expression shifted into an excited grin.
"Well, if you'll excuse me, I must be going now. The beautiful elf whose name I still haven't learned is waiting for me."
He finished the sentence with a hearty laugh as he turned and walked away, waving cheerfully to everyone present.
Emeralda let out a long sigh.
"If Master Brasto weren't such a pervert, he would be almost as perfect a person as Fortore."
'So this is what they mean when they say love is blind…' Lucas thought as he watched her.
Emeralda quickly bowed before Lucas.
"Your Majesty, I apologize that you had to witness such behavior from my master. However, as I hope you already know, he is still a man worthy of great respect. Now, if you will excuse me, I must take this boy back to the infirmary. The doctors say it is time for him to rest."
With that, Emeralda once again lifted Lars—who was now lying limply in her arms with tears of emotion streaming down his face—and carried him away toward the arena's infirmary.
But before leaving completely, Emeralda shot Aislyra one last hostile glance and said, "Aislyra, just so you know—if we face each other in a match tomorrow, I will not lose like I did last time."
After that final remark, things returned to what they had been about to do before Brasto had appeared. Lucas, Katerina, and Aislyra said goodbye to Sequoria, who then headed toward her own room for the evening.
Soon afterward, the three of them arrived in front of the queen's chambers.
Aislyra glanced briefly at Lucas's face, then at Katerina's. After a moment of silent thought, she offered to remain outside the door to stand guard. Lucas tried to persuade her to come inside and rest instead, but for some reason Aislyra stubbornly refused.
And so, a short time later, only Lucas and Katerina remained in the room.
Lucas sat at the table, waiting for dinner, while Katerina quietly prepared it.
Under normal circumstances, there would have been nothing unusual about the situation. Lucas had long since grown accustomed to Katerina's presence. Yet tonight, the atmosphere in the room felt strangely heavy.
This was the first time Lucas had been alone with her since learning the truth about what had happened to her village—and to her race.
At that moment, he was being consumed by guilt.
The source of that guilt was simple: he had learned about such an important part of Katerina's life not from Katerina herself, but from Sequoria.
Of course, he knew that Sequoria had spoken with Katerina's permission. Even so, the knowledge did little to ease the discomfort he felt.
'Maybe I should have stopped Sequoria before she told me… or at least left the cabin for a moment,' Lucas thought.
Deep down, he understood that the guilt was largely irrational. Still, he could not shake the uneasy feeling that he had heard something he was not meant to know—at least not yet.
The awkward silence lingered until Katerina finally approached the table carrying the first course of his dinner.
The dish was one Lucas had described to her before the tournament began: pasta prepared with eggs, guanciale, Parmesan cheese, and black pepper.
In other words, the famous Roman dish—carbonara pasta.
One of Lucas's favorite meals.
Katerina had managed to recreate the dish with remarkable precision. The only noticeable difference was the absence of black pepper, a spice that apparently did not exist anywhere on this continent.
In its place, she had used a bright yellow spice called sapica. Mixed into the pasta, it was now barely visible, blending naturally with the creamy egg sauce. Among all the spices available in the palace kitchens, it was the one whose flavor most closely resembled the pepper Lucas remembered.
Despite the appetizing appearance of the dish, however, the atmosphere in the room remained heavy.
"Here you are, Mr. Lucas. This is my recreation of the dish you described to me—'Pasta alla Carbonara.' I hope it meets your expectations," Katerina said, bowing slightly as she placed the plate before him.
"Thank you, Katerina. It looks absolutely fantastic!" Lucas replied, doing his best to keep the tension out of his voice.
Unfortunately, that effort was not enough to fool Katerina—and her keen beast-like instincts.
"Forgive me if I am mistaken, Mr. Lucas," she said calmly in her usual monotone voice. "But during my match with Angre… did Lady Sequoria tell you what happened to my village?"
Lucas froze for a brief moment.
Realizing he had been found out immediately, he decided not to hide the truth.
"Yes… she did," he admitted quietly. "I'm sorry, Katerina. I should have asked you directly."
Hearing his response, a small but almost exaggeratedly kind smile appeared on the maid's face.
"I see. So that is what was troubling you, Mr. Lucas. But there is no need for you to worry. I have already given Lady Sequoria permission to reveal that information to anyone who wishes to know it. After all, what happened to my village and my race is not a secret," Katerina said in her usual calm, monotone voice—though this time it carried a remarkable amount of kindness.
She then added, her tone suddenly shifting to something more professional, almost cold.
"Besides, I am nothing more than a humble maid, while you are the queen of this kingdom. There is no reason for you to concern yourself with my feelings."
The first part of Katerina's explanation eased Lucas's worries somewhat.
The second part, however, did something that rarely happened—it made him angry.
For a few seconds he completely forgot the guilt that had been weighing on him.
"Katerina, do not say something like that again," Lucas replied firmly. "Other rulers might treat their servants as nothing more than tools, but I—and I'm quite certain Alberia as well—are not that kind of ruler. So please never say something like that again. Your feelings are just as important to me as anyone else's. In fact, they are more important to me than those of most people."
His gaze remained fixed on Katerina's face—something Lucas had struggled greatly to do during the past few hours.
A faint smile appeared on the lynx beastwoman's lips.
'They truly are similar, even when they become angry… I understand more and more why the goddess Elfidora chose Mr. Lucas.'
"I understand. I will refrain from making statements like that in the future," Katerina said, bowing briefly. Then she continued in a serious, professional tone. "As your personal maid, I cannot say that such behavior is entirely appropriate for the queen of a nation…"
But then her expression softened, and she smiled again.
"However, on a personal level, it makes me very happy."
Katerina's beautiful smile slowly dissolved what little guilt still lingered inside Lucas.
After taking a deep breath, he asked cautiously, "So… you truly do not mind how I learned about what happened to your race?" He wanted to remove any possible doubt.
"Yes, Mr. Lucas. As I mentioned, what happened to my race of beastmen is a rather well-known event in this world. Most people on this continent are aware that I am one of the last surviving members of my race—especially considering my position here in the palace. I am not exactly an unknown person."
She paused briefly before continuing.
"Furthermore, knowing Lady Sequoria, I imagine she did not tell you anything particularly detailed. And even if she had, as long as she told only you, I would not have had any objection. So, Mr. Lucas, you have absolutely no reason to feel guilty. In fact, I should probably feel guilty myself, since my failure to tell you about my past caused you such unpleasant emotions on a day that should have been one of celebration and enjoyment."
She finished with another small bow.
"N-no, don't worry. Even if it's true that I felt guilty until a moment ago, it's also true that I didn't mind learning more about you, Katerina. It's just that… thinking about it now, I would have preferred that you were the one to tell me," Lucas said, slightly flustered.
"I understand. I am glad that my past did not prevent you from enjoying the tournament," Katerina replied calmly.
Then, almost as casually as if she were asking an ordinary question, she added:
"And since you seem interested… if you wish, I can tell you the rest of what happened to my village that night. Without hiding any details."
For a moment, Lucas froze.
He remained completely still for nearly a full minute, as though Medusa herself had turned him to stone.
Finally, he looked at Katerina and forced a small, bitter smile.
"I'm sorry… but I don't think I'm ready yet," he admitted quietly, his voice still tinged with lingering guilt.
A gentle smile returned to Katerina's face.
"I understand. Then when the day comes that you feel ready, I would like you to be the one to ask me."
Lucas met her "eyes" directly and answered with a simple but firm reply.
"Of course."