As the Duke's bride stood with her head bowed, Yoreri mentally recalled the color of her eyes—the delicate, pure light green he had noted upon their first meeting. Like young shoots unfurling in spring.
He pointed confidently at one of the cases.
"This is a peridot ring—stones from the northern mines. The color is an exact match for your fiancée's eyes."
Wearing pristine white gloves, Yoreri carefully lifted the ring and presented it.
Overcoming her embarrassment, Marin raised her head to look.
A teardrop-cut peridot the color of fresh grass sat nestled within a dense circle of brilliant diamonds.
"Oh... how beautiful."
The masterful craftsmanship made the stone shimmer with mesmerizing light.
"My personal work." Yoreri puffed with pride. "Ha-ha-ha."
"Do you like it?"
"Yes." Marin nodded. "I'm not sure I can accept something so fine, but the ring truly is beautiful."
"With your permission..." Yoreri's eyes flashed with renewed enthusiasm. He drew a second ring from another case. "How do you find *this?*"
The stone was blue—cool and clear as mountain water.
"Aquamarine. It carries such a refreshing feeling, doesn't it? When I heard your fiancée's name, I thought of this ring immediately."
Looking at the pale blue sparks within the stone, Marin's thoughts drifted unbidden to the past.
Her mother had loved aquamarines. Her father had given them to her often. Marin's very name had been taken from this stone.
"Beautiful."
Her voice came out softer than she intended. Her expression darkened.
Yoreri looked at her with concern.
"You don't like it?"
"No. I simply... remembered something." Marin shook her head and managed a small smile. "My father often gave my mother stones like these. It brought back memories. Both rings are truly lovely."
"We'll take both." The Duke's voice cut through the pause. "Are there matching sets?"
"Of course!" Yoreri beamed. "Necklace, earrings, bracelet—the complete collection."
Marin's gaze darted toward the Duke. She leaned closer and whispered:
"I'll only wear them once anyway..."
"Consider them a bonus."
"Thank you. I'll be happy to accept."
She changed her tone immediately, agreeing without further protest.
*With jewelry like this, I could leave the Duke's castle right now and never worry about money again.*
"Yoreri—leave all the stones you brought."
"Wh-what?" Yoreri's jaw dropped. Then his eyes welled with grateful tears. "Th-thank you, Your Grace!"
Marin leaned toward the Duke again and whispered:
"Two will be more than enough for me."
"You may sell the rest." His voice dropped lower. "But do not sell these two engagement pieces."
A shiver ran down her spine.
*Can he actually read minds?*
Feeling caught, Marin answered cautiously:
"I won't."
"So you *were* planning to sell them."
A crooked smile tugged at his lips.
*Ah. He trapped me.*
"You misunderstand." Marin drew herself up with exaggerated dignity. "I was merely thinking of passing them down through generations."
At times like these, the key was to insist.
"Of course. Of course."
Meanwhile, Yoreri returned with both rings displayed in a dark red velvet box.
"Shall we proceed with the engagement presentation?"
"Only the aquamarine."
"Yes, Your Grace."
Yoreri carefully placed the box containing the aquamarine ring onto the Duke's outstretched palm.
"Why that one?" Marin looked at him questioningly.
"Wear this one at the reception." His voice was quiet. "It makes sense to choose a stone your parents loved."
Marin didn't know what expression to wear.
*The engagement isn't even real.*
The bridge of her nose burned. She quickly looked away.
A heavy pause settled over the room.
The Duke turned his body toward her—as though he could see her, even with his eyes closed.
He lifted the ring from its velvet bed and ran his finger lightly over its shape, feeling its form.
*He's memorizing it by touch.*
Finally, he extended his large palm toward her.
"Marin."
"...Yes."
Tension climbed up her throat. Marin placed her hand awkwardly on his.
He slid the ring slowly onto her finger.
Even though it was all pretend, her heart pounded without stopping.
"Ahem."
"Uh..."
Sebas and Yoreri both covered their mouths. The two of them looked genuinely moved.
The ring fit perfectly—as though it had been made for her.
Marin ran her finger over the stone, just as the Duke had done moments before.
The ring she had received for this sham engagement was dazzlingly beautiful.
And heavy.
The fictitious nature of the arrangement made its weight heavier still.
---
## — Later That Day —
On his way to the Duke's office, Zeromian stopped abruptly.
The blacksmith Suren and Butler Sebas were walking toward him.
"Hey, handsome alchemist! Looking good today, as always!"
Suren's voice was hoarse from years of shouting over forge fires. She waved cheerfully.
Dark purple eyes. A light purple bob cut. At one hundred eighty-five centimeters, she was tall for a woman.
Her sharp features might have made her pass for a handsome man at first glance—but on closer inspection, she was quite beautiful.
Suren wore a sleeveless shirt that displayed her powerful biceps, paired with practical trousers.
"Blacksmith—isn't it cold?"
Zeromian adjusted his glasses, glancing pointedly at her exposed arms.
"It's hot enough in the forge. Did you give the cane you made to the Duke?"
"Thanks to you, I finished in time. Thank you."
Without Suren, he couldn't have completed it so quickly. The cane had been designed with a hidden blade mechanism; he'd spent countless nights sketching diagrams and explaining its engineering to her.
"Suren—I've asked you, it's *His Grace,*" Sebas interjected, unable to help himself.
"A *muscular butler*—too long." Suren shrugged. "And the Duke himself doesn't mind. Besides, I'm not even from the Empire."
"Why do you only mispronounce *that* word? Your other speech is flawless." Sebas massaged the bridge of his nose as though nursing a headache.
"It's fun."
Suren winked and giggled. Zeromian, listening nearby, laughed aloud.
"By the way—the handsome alchemist and I are rarely summoned together. Any idea why, handsome?"
"We'll find out when we get there."
As the three approached the office, the Duke's voice sounded through the door:
"Come in."
Zeromian entered and clicked his bracelet. The room flooded with soft light.
"Handsome alchemist—make me one of those too."
Suren eyed the bracelet with open envy.
"Duke—why did you summon us?"
Zeromian ignored her request and turned to Gerald.
Gerald, rather than answering, addressed Suren directly:
"Suren."
"Yes, Duke. How've you been?"
Suren offered a brief nod—the maximum extent of her politeness.
Gerald had first encountered her in Voasis, a trading city built around a great lake in the middle of the Sanders Empire's desert. Back then, disguised as a man, she had sold swords she forged herself. She'd looked more like a rough-and-tumble mercenary than a blacksmith.
"Can you build a carriage?"
The question—long contemplated—finally emerged.
Marin could not tolerate carriage rides. They might have traveled together on horseback instead, but Gerald could not see.
Of course, even blind, he rode without difficulty. But from the outside, that would raise too many questions.
For Daya's debut—the journey to the capital—a carriage was a necessity.
"A carriage?"
Zeromian looked at Gerald as though he'd lost his mind.
"Yes."
"It can be done." Suren shrugged. "But something like that is better left to specialists. There are craftsmen who've spent their whole lives building carriages."
"I want a carriage that doesn't feel like a carriage."
"What do you mean?"
"It shouldn't shake inside. And when you're inside, you shouldn't feel closed in on all sides." Gerald paused. "Something like a glass carriage."
Suren propped her chin on her fist and considered the problem seriously.
"A glass carriage... It *could* be made. But no matter how you reinforce it, glass will shatter against branches and stones."
"What if it's not glass?"
The room went still.
"What if it's diamond?"
All three of them stared at Gerald in shock.