"No, I will handle this myself," Howard declared with unwavering determination.
Seeing his resolve, the steward had no choice but to consent.
Turning to the young girl, he spoke sternly, "Chris, be especially careful. Do not harm this nobleman, or you will face severe consequences."
Chris lifted her gaze to Howard, biting her lip as she nodded in acknowledgment.
Having grown up in the slums, she had always harbored a deep disdain for the aristocracy.
Even now, reduced to slavery, her desire to strike down any noble she encountered was undiminished.
In her eyes, Howard, clad in his ornate armor, was nothing more than a feeble noble, utterly useless in combat.
His desire to engage with her without suffering any injury was, to her, an indication of his utter ignorance of what true battle entailed.
He was nothing more than a wealthy fool.
