The sound of the lute filled the square, and the song took flight. Its verses praised the Young Wolf and Christina, how together they defeated the blue monster. Carla and Daisy listened in delight, applauding the performance at its end. Ironclaw, however, stood indifferent—the beast girl could not appreciate the art of music.
"I hope it suited your taste, fair lady," the Bard said.
"It was wonderful!" Carla replied. "Did you compose it? I've never heard it before."
"I did," the Bard nodded. "I play in many taverns, hearing all the rumors and tales. When I heard of the brave Knights' victory over the Blue Ogre, I knew it had to become a song. And indeed, it has become very popular."
"You should sing it for my son sometime," Carla said. "He would surely enjoy it—especially since it's about him."
"What?! Surely not!" the Bard recoiled. "Your son is the famous Young Wolf?"
"Yes," Carla answered. "My name is Carla Wolfwood. I am the mother of Andras Wolfwood, the Young Wolf."
"By the Goddess's beauty!" the Bard cried out. "What a meeting! The winds of fate willed it so! My name is Alexander Loverchild, the Bard. I am twenty‑one years old, the youngest—and between us, the finest—bard in the Capital."
"This Beast‑girl beside me is Ironclaw, my bodyguard," Carla introduced.
"Ironclaw?! The Ironclaw? The famous Bandit‑Hunting Hound?" Alexander marveled. "Oh heavens! To meet such a legend in person. A beautiful and powerful female… inspiration strikes already! I shall write a song about her. I know! What if I joined you for the duration of the tournament? I would sing only for you. If I could hear the adventures of the Young Wolf and Ironclaw firsthand, I could compose countless songs to last a lifetime!"
"I don't mind," Carla replied. "You sing good songs. And if they're about my son, he will be delighted too."
"Then it's settled!" Alexander exclaimed. "Shake on it, gracious and beautiful Lady Carla!"
"Shake on it, Alexander the Bard!" Carla smiled, and they clasped hands.
The Bard, Alexander Loverchild, now accompanied them as part of Carla's company. A talkative young man, he spoke more than five others combined, yet his songs burned with passion, romance, and the promise of adventure.
Meanwhile, Daisy successfully found the capital's famous restaurant, the one known for its legendary pastry. This delicacy was especially beloved by noble ladies, wealthy merchants' wives, and their daughters. But behind the counter, only a single piece remained—the last one, waiting for its owner.
Carla's eyes immediately fell upon it, and at the same moment another woman pointed to it as well.
"I'll take that pastry!" Carla declared firmly.
"I'll take that last piece!" the other woman replied, her voice equally determined.
The two voices rang out together, and at once the chatter in the restaurant fell silent. Guests turned curiously toward the two ladies, both claiming the city's most sought‑after sweet.
"Well now? We asked at the same time?" Carla exclaimed in surprise.
Ironclaw then stepped forward, her growl filling the room, her voice booming like thunder:
"The pastry is ours!!!"
But the other claimant was no ordinary woman: Floralys Greenwood, Lady of House Greenwood, the Kingdom's only elf. Her long, light‑brown hair cascaded softly over her shoulders, her green eyes reflecting the calm of the earth element. Her pointed ears were even longer than Noelle's, and as an elven woman she was considered a true beauty—though Carla was not far behind.
Floralys was a wood elf, her element earth. Though 180 years old, in elven terms she was still considered young. She had entered the restaurant alone, while four Green Hawk Knights waited outside as her guards. None of them were Captain‑level, for the Captain of the Green Hawks was currently competing in the Royal Knightly Tournament and could not accompany his lady.
Yet Ironclaw's growl filled the hall, and at the sound the knights burst inside, hands resting on their sword hilts, ready to defend their elven mistress.
The guests, who had until then quietly enjoyed their pastries, suddenly fell silent, every gaze fixed on the two noble ladies.
Carla calmly stroked Ironclaw's shoulder, her voice soft yet firm:
"Easy, Ironclaw, she is no enemy."
Floralys then raised her hand and spoke calmly to her knights:
"All is well. Return to your posts."
"Yes, my lady!" the Green Hawk Knights replied, obediently withdrawing.
The tension slowly eased, yet everyone in the restaurant felt it: two great houses had met here, and the moment's significance went far beyond a single pastry.
Carla leaned closer to the elven lady with curiosity.
"Well now! Your ears are even longer than Noelle's! How adorable!"
"Thank you… I suppose," Floralys answered, a little embarrassed.
"May I touch them?" Carla asked with childlike enthusiasm.
"You mean… you want to touch my ears?" Floralys raised an eyebrow.
"Noelle always lets me touch hers!" Carla explained cheerfully.
"That's a bit… wait, who is Noelle? Is she an elf too?" the elven lady asked.
"Our Noelle is a half‑elf," Carla replied.
"What does she look like?" Floralys inquired.
"She has snow‑white hair and violet eyes. Her long ears make her easy to recognize," Carla said proudly.
"Snow‑white hair, violet eyes… I see. Then she must be a Northern High Elf, or rather a half‑elf. Not a survivor from my village," Floralys murmured thoughtfully.
Carla suddenly brightened.
"I know! Noelle taught me a magical trick!"
"And what would that be?" Floralys asked curiously.
"If we split the pastry, we can taste more kinds at once!" Carla replied.
"I see. So you'd like to share this last piece?" Floralys smiled.
"We'll take one of each pastry, to that table!" Carla turned to the vendor.
"I'll bring them right away," the vendor replied.
"Come, let's sit together," Carla invited warmly.
And so it happened that the two noble ladies—Carla Wolfwood and Floralys Greenwood—took seats at the same table, sharing the capital's famous pastries. In the restaurant, the tension slowly dissolved, and curious stares gave way to a respectful silence.
Carla and Floralys sat down at a table. At the one behind them, Ironclaw, Daisy, and Alexander took their seats, watching as the two noble ladies slowly began to converse.
"I haven't even introduced myself yet," Carla said with a smile. "My name is Carla Wolfwood."
"And mine is Floralys Greenwood," the elven lady replied with dignity. "It is an honor."
"I'm truly glad to have met you," Carla said sincerely.
Floralys leaned closer with curiosity.
"So, that half‑elf girl… how did she come to be with you?"
"Noelle?" Carla answered. "When my son was eight years old, he chose a girl from the orphanage to be his personal maid."
"So Noelle works as a maid?" Floralys asked.
"A maid, and a mage as well," Carla explained proudly. "My son is a gifted mage—he immediately saw Noelle's talent. But, between us, even if she hadn't been talented, he would have chosen her anyway. She's simply too adorable."
"I see," Floralys nodded. "So she has a good place with you. I'm glad."
Carla turned to her with curiosity.
"And what about you? How did you come to the Kingdom?"
"That is a very old story," Floralys sighed. "It happened two centuries ago, when I was still a child."
"Ah, I forgot that elves live so long," Carla remarked. "How old are you, Floralys?"
"One hundred and eighty," the elven lady replied. "When I wandered into the Kingdom's lands, I was only fifteen."
"One hundred and eighty?" Carla exclaimed. "You look barely twenty! I'm already thirty‑three. And where did you come from before the Kingdom?"
Floralys's eyes darkened, her voice grew heavy.
"Beyond the southern border of the Kingdom, in the volcanic mountains of the Fire Dragons, there was a hidden wood‑elf village. I lived there with the other wood elves. But one day… while hunting, a Fire Dragon stumbled upon our village. It burned everything. The entire village. I had wandered off that day, and when I returned, there was nothing left but ash and dust. Our homes, my parents, the villagers… all gone."
Carla's eyes tightened, her voice trembled.
"That's terrible… I'm so sorry."
Floralys's eyes darkened, her voice deepened as she recalled her past.
"It happened long ago, yet I still remember that dreadful sight. I was left alone—the only survivor. Only because I wasn't in the village at the time. For days I waited, hoping someone would come, hoping someone had survived the Dragonfire. But no one ever came."
The elven lady's words fell slowly, heavily, as though each sentence was another stone upon the heart.
"Then I turned north. My long journey led me into the Kingdom's lands, and eventually to Greenwood. The Green Hawk Knights found me, weakened and broken from the wandering. The Greenwoods were kind to me, they took me in. I fell in love with the son of the Lord at that time. We were both fifteen. And then we married."
For a moment Floralys's eyes gleamed, but then they darkened again.
"But elves under one hundred and eighty years cannot bear children. My husband grew old beside me, and at sixty‑two he passed away. We could have no child, and so House Greenwood was left without an heir. Since then, I have led Greenwood. Now I am one hundred and eighty years old, and at last I could bear an heir. Perhaps it is time I seek a new husband, to secure the future of the house."