From his handsome, almost unreal face, to his upright posture, and then to that simple but inexplicably well-fitting outfit.
She gracefully stepped forward, extended her right hand, palm slightly lowered, fingers naturally curved.
This was a standard pose awaiting a kiss salute.
In this era, a kiss on the hand was not only for knights to express respect and loyalty to noble ladies,
even when interacting with non-noble women, men often use it to show politeness to a high-status and respected lady.
It was perceived as a sign of grace and respect, and Karl certainly knew this etiquette.
But he didn't have such a habit, and he had never bowed to anyone, regardless of their status.
Although Margarita's pose at that moment was neither offensive nor frivolous, it was more of a common and friendly gesture.
Many thoughts raced through Karl's mind, but he acted without the slightest hesitation.
He naturally extended his right hand and gently grasped the front half of Margarita's finger, avoiding the part of the palm that could be considered intimate contact.
Then, very politely, he gently shook it up and down and said: "Hello, Margarita. Nice to meet you, I'm Karl."
Without finishing his sentence, he decisively let go, without the slightest uncertainty, hesitation, or additional reaction.
Karl's calmness made Margarita noticeably pause for a moment; her hand still hung in the air, maintaining its previous pose.
The smile on her face, tinged with charm, froze for a moment.
Inside, a rare, almost absurd self-doubt quietly rose.
"Is something wrong with my makeup today?" Or is the dress not attractive enough?"
"Or..." Has my charm faded? No, that's impossible."
Margarita was absolutely confident in herself, judging by her appearance, figure, temperament, and status.
The men she had seen before – whether nobles, knights, merchants, or sorcerers –
who didn't look like they wanted to undress her with their eyes and rack their brains to get close to her?
Even those sorcerers who could hide their feelings couldn't escape the burning passion and longing in their eyes.
She almost never had direct physical contact with men, precisely to avoid those annoying entanglements and fantasies.
And this Karl before him... He was the first, the first to be so calm and natural.
So... a man who, upon first meeting, perceives her solely as a "collaborator."
His gaze was clear, his movements polite but distant, without extra glances or fantasies.
It seemed that everything she was proud of was no different in his eyes from stones and trees by the roadside.
This feeling was new, a little annoying, but more... My interest was completely ignited.
Margarita withdrew her hand, but the smile did not disappear.
Instead, it became even more radiant and sincere, her eyes filling with an interest that seemed overflowing.
She had an unprecedented desire to explore this boy, who was both overly handsome and strange.
"Margarita?" Teacher Tissaia? You came too?"
At that moment, Triss, Yennefer, and Keira were already approaching, their faces clearly surprised.
Ciri followed like a little tail, curiously peeking inside.
Only then did Margarita's attention divert from Karl and look back.
When she saw that the newcomers were Yennefer, Triss, and Keira,
She raised her eyebrows and smiled in surprise: "Yennefer, Triss, oh, and Keira, I didn't expect to see all of you here."
Her gaze swept over the three sorceresses, then looked back at the others on the edge of the training ground.
When she saw Mousesack, the druid in disguise, a flicker of surprise appeared in her eyes again.
Finally, her gaze returned to Karl, her tone half-joking, but her blue eyes carefully watching his reaction.
"It seems Mr. Karl's 'problem' is indeed a serious one. Even the reclusive druids have been called."
Karl simply responded with a faint, noncommittal smile, not answering.
When the time comes, explanations will come naturally; there is no rush now.
However, at that moment, Tissaia, who had been quietly standing next to Hen with a calm gaze, suddenly felt something.
Her gaze swept over Karl and stopped on the gray-haired little girl with mousy hair, who was curiously peeking out.
Tissaia's gaze, especially on those unique emerald-green eyes, lingered unusually long.
She frowned slightly, as if remembering, recognizing, and confirming.
After a moment, she thought for a moment and quietly uttered a word in a voice that was not loud, but clear enough for those around to hear: "Elder Blood?"
These four words, like stones thrown into a lake, instantly caused waves in the hearts of those present who understood their meaning.
The playful smile on Margarita's face instantly vanished, and she exchanged a surprised glance with Yennefer, who was also looking at the source of the sound.
Almost simultaneously, the two of them, with expressions of disbelief, again fixed their gaze on Ciri.
This time, it was an extremely serious look, as if trying to see through Ciri from the inside.
Yennefer couldn't help but step forward and confirm with Tissaia: "She... the ugly duckling... Tissaia, did you... did you get it right?"
Tissaia shook her head. This gesture was not a denial, but a certainty – she was sure her judgment was not wrong.
That unique and powerful rhythm, originating from the lineage of Ain Ayr.
Although it was still weak and barely noticeable, it truly existed in that little girl.
Tissaia turned to her old friend, her voice still soft but serious: "Hen, what do you think?"
Hen's expression did not change at all; he had known about this all along.
He simply calmly glanced at Ciri, then looked at Karl, a cold gleam flickering in his eyes.
"What do you think about Karl? Well, I agree with him," Hen's voice was even and resolute.
Tissaia frowned even more. She understood Hen, and from this sentence, she heard a very clear stance and... murderous intent.
"Hen, you can always talk about something, maybe it's not..." Tissaia's voice held a note of urgency and advice.
"Nothing needed?" Hen sharply interrupted her.
"Through communication, to make the greedy, those who covet to steal and use this power, give up their ambitions and intrigues?"
"Tissaia, you and I have lived too long. You must understand that some things cannot be resolved through 'communication'."
"Anyone who dares to covet this child, no matter who they are or what contribution they have made to the Brotherhood... eliminate them directly."
"After we've wiped out a bunch of ignorant fools, let's see who else dares to get any ideas, and who still dares to make a move." By the end, Hen's voice was icy cold.