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“—And then Maria Lou said to me, ‘If you’re a man, don’t run away! Face your challenges head-on, use your brain, steady your nerves, and push through! If you can’t do that, I won’t acknowledge you as a real man!’”

Colin mimicked her tone, placing his hands on his hips and tilting his chin up in a stern, scolding manner.

“She sounds like quite the strong-willed girlfriend.”

What she said wasn’t wrong, of course, but if it were me, I might have softened it a little.

“Oh—uh, no, Maria Lou is the editor-in-chief’s only daughter, not my partner or anything…” Colin hastily denied it, his face turning bright red.

Fufufu. But from that reaction alone, it was clear they were more than just friends, though not quite lovers yet. Ah, how endearing.

“But she always has something harsh to say whenever we meet. Don’t you think she could be a little kinder?”
“It might be hard to hear, but she only says those things because she believes you can improve. If all you ever hear are sweet words, people tend to take the easy way out.”

In truth, Cestlavie always nags at me too, but it’s never without reason. If I were constantly told only what I wanted to hear, I—weak-willed as I am—might end up indulging in it and losing my drive to improve.

“That’s why I think you should take Maria Lou’s words to heart and do your best.”
“…But sometimes, I just wish she’d say something sweet to me.”
“Is Miss Maria Lou not kind to you?”
“W-Well, she is. She often comes by the office to bring lunch to the editor-in-chief, and when she does, she makes some for me too… Oh no! I haven’t clocked in today!”

Colin clutched his head in despair.

Seeing that the conversation had reached a natural pause, Father Lawrence—who had been compiling reports at another desk—set down his pen and stood up.

“Well, it seems this has somehow turned into a love consultation. But I believe we’ve gone over everything we needed to, haven’t we?”

Father Lawrence wore a gentle smile, but his eyes clearly conveyed ‘Enough with the pointless chatter’ as he shot me a reproachful look.

“M-My apologies. So, regarding Colin’s situation from here on, what do you intend to do?”
“Hmm. I can’t say for certain without reviewing everything first.”

Tapping the top of the towering stack of reports—most of which were filled with romantic gossip and workplace complaints—Father Lawrence forced a polite smile.

“But as things stand, I believe we can safely say he’s uninvolved.”

Colin, who has been holding his breath in suspense, let out a loud, relieved exhale.

“You’re free to go home. Just make sure we can reach you at any time, and keep your whereabouts clear. Additionally, don’t even think about publishing anything about the threat letter—though, naturally, the higher-ups have already been informed.”

Colin seemed ready to protest at Father Lawrence’s thinly veiled warning, but faced with that unyielding, ever-smiling expression, he faltered. Instead, he bit his lip, gave me a small bow, and left the interrogation room escorted by a guild official.

“Well then, shall we return to the guest chamber? This place is far too dreary for my liking.”

Leaving the cleanup entirely to his subordinate templar knights, Father Lawrence stretched with a deep sigh before leading the way toward the exit.

“By the way, has Miss Eliza already left?”

Recalling that I hadn’t seen her since I started making katsudon, I turned to a nearby templar knight and asked.

“Lady Barbara is waiting in the guest chamber as a precaution.”

She must be rather bored by now.

“Lady Simonetta as well?”
“No…”

As Father Lawrence left, Deputy Guildmaster Tarki arrived, bowing slightly to me and the others before shaking his head with a complicated expression.

“Lady Simonetta said, ‘A phantom thief’s threat letter!? I simply cannot stay in such a dangerous place!’ and promptly left.”

I can understand her feelings, but somehow, that sounds like a death flag waiting to happen.

“And what about the others?”
“Well, given the time, about half the staff have gone home. However, the Deputy Chief of Security, Indro, and the remaining guards, as well as Marina at reception, are still here. Also… His High—sir, Lord Corald and his attendants as well.”

Deputy Guildmaster Tarki hesitated noticeably when mentioning Sir Simon.

“To be honest, I’d rather they leave before things get any more complicated…”

He sighed almost pleadingly, and though it wasn’t my responsibility, I found myself bowing reflexively.

“My apologies. I’ll speak to them and ask them to leave soon.”
“Much appreciated.”

With visible relief, Deputy Guildmaster Tarki bowed deeply in return.

“Also, regarding that ‘katsudon’ from earlier… Its smell and reputation have spread, and Lord Corald, along with several guild staff, have expressed a strong desire to try it. We have the ingredients on hand, so… if possible, would you be willing to prepare it as a late-night meal for those interested?”

Once again, he bowed, now looking troubled for a different reason.

“…Well, I suppose that’s fine. In that case, we should head to the dining hall first.”

Rolling up my sleeves and tying my hair back with a ribbon, I got into battle mode—only for the remaining templar knights to hesitantly raise their hands.

“Um… Lady Clara, would you mind making some for us too?”
“Please! Watching them eat right in front of us is unbearable!”
“If possible, I’d love to have seconds!”
“Please, Lady Clara!”

They all pleaded with such serious expressions.

“Understood. Whether it’s ten servings or twenty, the effort isn’t much different.”

The underground interrogation room instantly erupted in cheers.

I sighed, thinking, ‘Oh well…’ But at that moment, I had no idea that these athletic men would each devour five servings on their own…

Author’s Note:

The story about writing a curry recipe is actually something that happened during my student days.

Since they didn’t know the answers on a test, they just kept writing “How to Make Delicious Curry”… and still managed to get credit for it.

…No, no, not me, of course.