"Although the process was somewhat unpleasant, the final impression was still quite good, King."
At the end of the dance, Guinevere gently released his hand and began to step away, gradually disappearing from Arthur's field of vision. Before leaving completely, however, she turned around one last time and glanced back at him over her shoulder.
"That forceful approach suited you quite well too."
As soon as she finished speaking, a mischievous glimmer appeared in her normally gentle and elegant eyes for the first time. That small spark of teasing seemed completely out of place on someone so refined, yet somehow it fit her perfectly.
Then, with her hands hidden behind her back and a satisfied smile on her lips, Guinevere spun on her heels and disappeared into the crowd.
She really does have the mindset of a young girl...
Arthur couldn't help thinking that.
But when he thought about it, it wasn't particularly surprising.
According to the current timeline, Guinevere was probably only sixteen or seventeen years old. Even though she had received a flawless education since childhood and carried herself with the elegance of a true princess, she was still a girl of that age.
It was perfectly normal for her to have some lighter, more playful feminine traits.
That said...
Why did all these people enjoy teasing others so much?
Nessa was one thing.
Morgan was another.
But why did even the seemingly gentle and refined Guinevere have such a mischievous side?
Are all girls like this?
Arthur watched the nobles continue dancing gracefully throughout the ballroom while his mind drifted toward completely random thoughts.
It wasn't that he didn't want to find Morgan as quickly as possible.
However, after calming down and thinking things through, he realized that Guinevere was right.
Finding someone in a place like this was practically impossible.
Unless that person came looking for him first.
Maybe I can find Morgan through her temperament?
The thought suddenly surfaced in his mind.
Just as it had happened with Merlin earlier.
Even though the mage's appearance had been completely altered, Arthur had recognized him almost instantly.
There were things that even magic could not hide.
Expressions.
Habits.
Posture.
The way someone looked at others.
A person's natural aura.
You could change a face.
But completely changing who someone was was an entirely different matter.
Thinking this, Arthur's gaze began sweeping across the faces of the nobles one after another.
Think carefully.
What are Morgan's usual expressions?
What kind of presence does she give off?
Maybe you won't find her immediately, but you can at least narrow down the list of suspects.
His eyes quickly settled on a particular woman.
Nessa?
No...
It wasn't Nessa.
Although the woman's appearance at that moment was extremely similar to Nessa's, her aura was completely different.
That gaze that seemed to carry an invisible smile.
That posture of someone who simply didn't care about what was happening around her.
That was much more like...
Master.
Noticing Arthur's gaze, the woman slowly turned her head.
Their eyes met.
After staring at each other for a few moments, she calmly walked toward him.
"Master...?" Arthur asked hesitantly, looking at the figure who possessed Usaha's appearance.
Scáthach slightly raised an eyebrow.
"You recognized me?"
Her voice carried a rare note of surprise.
Clearly, she hadn't expected Arthur to identify her so quickly instead of mistaking her for her own daughter.
Arthur let out a small sigh of relief.
"I was only making an assumption. Master's temperament is completely different from Nessa's."
Although Nessa often appeared distant when dealing with strangers, this was different.
Scáthach also had a reserved side, but her nature was much more carefree.
In other words, she didn't deliberately try to push people away.
Most people simply felt a natural pressure when facing her and ended up giving up on approaching her.
It was something that could be clearly seen in the behavior of the disciples of the Land of Shadows.
"It seems you haven't relaxed in that regard either." Scáthach nodded slightly. "Not only has your strength improved. Your observational abilities have also grown considerably."
The corners of her lips curved into a small smile.
"Being able to improve other capabilities while strengthening your own power is truly commendable."
Arthur felt a quiet sense of satisfaction bloom within him.
Receiving praise from Scáthach was never a common occurrence.
"Compared to Master, my observational abilities are still far from ideal."
"You don't need to be so modest."
Scáthach smiled softly.
Then her fingers slid across Arthur's neck, lightly tracing the outline of an invisible mark.
"My observational abilities may not be as good as yours..."
Her voice became lower.
"But I can still see certain things very clearly."
Her fingers lingered against his neck for several moments.
"It's still there... exactly as I expected."
She murmured to herself.
Regardless of whether Morgan had merely been asserting her dominance or simply trying to provoke her...
That woman was truly irritating.
Feeling the cool touch of his master's fingers, Arthur immediately understood what she was referring to.
So...
That supposed Mark of the Goddess of Death really was a fake?
After all, Scáthach had never lied to him.
Even if the effects of the mark required time to manifest completely, he should have felt at least some kind of change.
Yet up until this moment, absolutely nothing had happened.
In fact, Arthur had been harboring doubts about that mark for quite some time.
Initially, he had intended to wait until Morgan placed it on his neck again before reaching a final conclusion.
After all, if that power were real, his strength would increase tremendously.
Ignoring a potential opportunity to become stronger would be pure stupidity.
But over the past few days, he had noticed something strange.
Morgan didn't seem to care about the supposed mark in the slightest.
Combined with the fact that he himself had felt no changes whatsoever in his body...
The conclusion was becoming increasingly obvious.
It was probably nothing more than another provocation directed at his master.
Just to be safe, I'd better talk to Morgan about it after the ball is over.
While Arthur reflected on the matter, the music around them changed once more.
The nobles reorganized their positions and began a new dance.
Watching the scene before him, Arthur suddenly remembered something.
His gaze returned to Scáthach.
Then it discreetly swept across the ballroom.
A faint trace of hesitation appeared on his face.
Finally, gathering his courage, he extended his hand in a formal invitation.
"Master?"
Scáthach hesitated for a moment.
Then she immediately understood what he meant.
Her smile froze for a fraction of a second.
Soon afterward, she regained her usual composure and shook her head.
"I'm not Nessa."
"But standing around like this would attract too much attention," Arthur replied without missing a beat.
"And I don't know how to dance. So I hope my master can teach me, if possible."
He held her gaze.
"If it's simply a master teaching her disciple how to dance, that wouldn't be strange, would it?"
"Indeed..."
Scáthach looked at him once again.
A resigned smile appeared on her face.
"It wouldn't be strange if it were merely a matter of teaching an apprentice."
Although teaching disciples was nothing unusual...
The way Arthur was looking at her definitely didn't resemble someone who was merely interested in learning dance steps.
Even so...
Even if she refused now, that boy would undoubtedly find another excuse to make her teach him later.
Wouldn't he?
Scáthach's eyes drifted once more toward the mark on his neck.
The softness in her smile gradually began to fade as the mark became more and more noticeable in her sight.
Eventually, she let out an almost imperceptible sigh.
Then she placed her hand in Arthur's palm.
"In that case..."
She raised her eyes.
"I will teach you."
Darkness once again enveloped the ballroom.
Only for an instant.
Almost as though a curtain had been closed and opened again.
When visibility returned, Arthur was still holding Scáthach's hand.
He raised his eyes and was momentarily stunned.
"Master..."
"What is it?"
Scáthach seemed confused.
Then she lowered her gaze toward herself.
A few seconds later, she understood the reason for his reaction.
By an extraordinary coincidence...
She had returned to her original appearance.
Is this luck...
Or misfortune?
Scáthach quickly shook her head, dismissing those unnecessary thoughts.
Then she gently squeezed Arthur's hand in response.
I'm only teaching him a dance.
There's nothing strange about that.
Besides...
It would be far stranger to keep hesitating.
---
(End of Chapter)