Working with Pride

“Here’s how the arrangements have progressed thus far.”

In the office within the Merchants’ Guild rented for the Rossetti Trading Company, Ivano apprised Dahlia of the latest developments in the company’s operations. It had been two weeks since their meeting with the Tailors’ and Adventurers’ Guilds. According to Ivano’s report, arrangements for mass-producing Dahlia’s toe socks and drying insoles were almost complete. With regards to the manufacture of these items, there would be no need for any further meetings with the guilds, but there was another duty that the company could not avoid. As soon as the first shipment of socks and insoles was ready, Dahlia would have to pay a second visit to the castle. There was still a fair amount of time to prepare, but a sense of dread had already begun to hang over her.

“If I may, Miss Dahlia, you’re looking a little down in the dumps.”

“Well, you know what happened last time.”

During her first visit to the Order of Beast Hunters’ quarters at the royal castle, the conversation had strayed into the topic of athlete’s foot, which had led to an insinuation that she was a sufferer herself. In her rush to defend herself, she’d shouted at Volf in front of all the other knights, completely forgetting her manners. She wished that that first visit could be enough, but protocol demanded otherwise.

“You’ll be fine. I’m sure Sir Volf was just trying to break the ice for you last time. They’ll all have forgotten about it by now. This next visit should be a simple formality.”

“Formality or not, there’s still so much castle etiquette to learn...”

“Oh, yes, of course. I need to brush up on that myself.”

The pair sighed in unison.

Dahlia had crammed furiously in preparation for her first visit to the castle, but it seemed her inexperience had soon betrayed her. When the opportunity had arisen, one of the Beast Hunters, Randolph, had kindly given her some pointers. “If you speak to some of the merchants who visit the castle regularly, I’m sure they’ll be happy to offer you further instruction,” he’d said. To that end, Dahlia had asked Gabriella for some introductions. However, she couldn’t help wondering whether the sorts of companies that supplied the castle would even give a newcomer like her the time of day. In truth, she felt very uneasy.

“Ah, there’s something else. We also received a letter and a package from the temple earlier today,” Ivano said.

“The temple? Have you made some kind of arrangement with them?”

“I visited the other day to offer them a small portion of our profits from the toe socks and insoles as a donation. The letter is just a note of thanks. Now, please take a look at this.”

Ivano produced a middling-sized silver box with a magical seal.

“A magically sealed box?”

“There are white crystals inside. I haven’t seen anything like them before. Do you know what they are, Miss Dahlia?”

Nestled inside the box were a number of pure white crystals. Dahlia picked one up and found it surprisingly heavy. The magical power she felt flowing from it reminded her of a fresh, cool breeze.

“I believe these are purifying crystals.” Purifying crystals were on the expensive side, and Dahlia had heard that buying them in bulk could be difficult. “Do you suppose they’re telling us athlete’s foot should be treated with crystals rather than socks and insoles?”

“No, I don’t believe that’s it. They seemed extremely pleased when I delivered the notice regarding our donation.” Did the temple have some objection to their company? Were they dissatisfied with the proposed donation? It was impossible to say. “Wait a moment. Miss Dahlia, something appears to be stuck inside the lid of the box.”

“Perhaps that’ll explain things.”

Ivano peeled the small, neatly folded piece of paper away from the lid and handed it to Dahlia. She unfolded it and began to read.

“‘Purifying crystals offer effective relief from ailments of the foot. In the event that you cannot visit the temple for treatment, please make use of these instead...’ Ivano, what they mean is that we should distribute these to anyone in the Beast Hunters who needs them, isn’t it? I mean, they’re not for me. They haven’t gotten the wrong idea, have they?”

“I...shouldn’t think so.”

Despite her emphatic pleas for reassurance, Ivano’s response didn’t inspire confidence. In fact, she noticed his gaze begin to wander uncomfortably. Fighting back despair, Dahlia picked up one of the crystals.

“Ivano, do you...want one of these?”

“Yes, please! I don’t want to leave the slightest chance of it coming back.” The man’s sincerity was clear.

“Help yourself.”

“Thank you!”

Ivano took three of the crystals in a leather pouch. As Dahlia watched him, her gaze stopped just below his indigo-blue eyes. The dark circles beneath them were so obvious, she wondered why she hadn’t noticed them earlier.

“Ivano, you have bags under your eyes. I want you to go home at the same time as the guild staff from now on.”

“I’m...not sure that’ll be feasible.”

“Then please slow our operations down. I’ll help you with any essential tasks where I can. I’m able to copy documents and take care of the ledgers.”

“That will be too much of a strain on you, Miss Dahlia.”

“It’ll be an even bigger one if you work yourself to exhaustion. It’s just the two of us running this company, remember?”

Ivano, gazing out of the window, reached up and rubbed his eyes. “Very well. You’re right, of course; we can’t afford for either of us to be out of action. I’ll try to take it a little easier.”

“Yes, please do.”

“For the time being, I’ll pay someone from the guild to undertake the copying work. I’ll also begin recruiting for permanent employees. Once I find some promising candidates, I’ll hire them for a probationary period, and then, if you’re agreeable, I’ll arrange for them to interview with you. Would that be acceptable?”

“Of course. This is still rather a lot of work for you, though, isn’t it?”

“Not at all. We’re not at the stage where I need to train anyone yet, and we don’t yet need to manage our own clients and manufacturing.”

“Yet” was the key word; all of that lay ahead. At present, the Rossetti Trading Company consisted only of Dahlia and Ivano. They didn’t deal with their clients directly, instead conducting all their business through the Merchants’ Guild. Their products were stored not on their premises—for they had none—but at the Merchants’ Guild, or they could be delivered directly to the castle by the Tailors’ Guild. Dahlia was thankful for such convenient arrangements. When Dahlia imagined all the clients and products they would have to manage in the future, she couldn’t help feeling a bit apprehensive.

“It’s so exciting, thinking about all that’s ahead of us.”

Ivano’s words took her by surprise. “Huh?”

“More people and products are what’ll breathe life into this company. I want to get us our own building—warehouses and stores too. That’ll expand our opportunities even further.”

“I’ve hardly ever seen you look so happy, Ivano.”

“What can I say? I’m a merchant. Let me put it like this: imagine you had a vast warehouse of materials for your toolmaking, more than enough for your needs, with even rare materials easily available. Wouldn’t you be excited?”

“I must admit I would be.”

Suddenly, she understood the source of Ivano’s glee. It would undoubtedly be thrilling to see new doors open up with every step they took, although Dahlia was keenly aware that possibilities and responsibilities were two sides of the same coin.

“Are there any materials you’d like to order at the moment, Miss Dahlia? I need to replenish our supply of parchment, so if there is anything you want, I’ll be happy to order that too.”

“There are a few things, actually. I’ll write a list.”

She’d ended up using much more kraken tape than expected last month. Her stocks of slime were also running a little low, and there was a particular type she had a mind to use in a future prototype. Her list read:

10 rolls of kraken tape

3 magically sealed boxes (silver)

5 cans of green slime (powdered)

2 cans of yellow slime (powdered)

1 black slime (powdered)

Although she was only asking for a small amount, she had a feeling the black slime powder might present a problem. She simply didn’t know how readily available it was, but she figured there was no harm in trying her luck. Due to its dangerous properties, it could probably only be safely stored in a magically sealed silver box, and it would be difficult to transport as well. She was fully prepared to be told it was an impossible request.

“They’ll think I’m harassing them if I’m not careful,” she muttered to herself. Her pencil hovered over the list as she debated scoring out the last item until Ivano deftly plucked the paper from her fingers. “Ivano, I haven’t finished yet!”

“If they don’t have it, you can just cancel the order and try elsewhere. I’ll add these to the order form and take it to Orlando & Co. I need to pay a visit anyway to pick up your fairy glass, and we’ll get the best prices there.”

The chairman of Orlando & Co., Ireneo Orlando, had promised to sell materials to the Rossetti Trading Company at wholesale price for the next three years. It would be foolish not to take advantage of his offer. Dahlia bore no ill will toward Orlando & Co., in spite of her abruptly annulled engagement to Ireneo’s brother, but she was still thankful not to have to visit in person.

“Are you sure you don’t mind, Ivano? I really ought to do this myself.”

“Not at all; it’s what I’m here for. In the meantime, boss, perhaps you could see if Madam Gabriella has arranged those introductions for you.”

With a grin, the blond man stood and strode swiftly from the room.

Some time passed before Dahlia was able to see Gabriella, the vice-guildmaster. She’d made an appointment in her capacity as the Rossetti Trading Company’s chairwoman, but it appeared Gabriella’s previous meeting had overrun. Dahlia kept herself occupied by working on her plans for her new magical stove, so the time wasn’t wasted.

“Forgive me, Dahlia. I’m afraid my last meeting dragged on a little.”

“Oh, no, it’s perfectly fine. I’m sorry I’m always bothering you.”

“Consulting me about your business is not ‘bothering’ me, Dahlia. The guild is here to assist you. Never hesitate to ask if there’s something we can do for you.”

The woman appeared somewhat fatigued as she sat down on the sofa in her office. Dahlia had a feeling there was more to her somber appearance than the dark blue dress she wore today. Perhaps, like Ivano, she’d also been overworking herself lately.

“Now, regarding your lessons in etiquette for the castle, I reached out to two companies and both are willing to lend their assistance. The first is the Zola Company, and the other is Bartolini Trading, whom I was in talks with just earlier. Personally, I recommend the Zola Company. The chairman is a magical toolmaker like yourself.”

“Would he happen to be a Mr. Oswald Zola? The one who owns that magical tool shop, the Goddess’s Right Eye?”

Surprised to hear Gabriella mention that name, Dahlia couldn’t contain her curiosity. Now that she thought of it, Oswald’s shop was a grand building situated in the nobles’ quarter. It was hardly far-fetched that he might chair a trading company and supply the castle as well.

“The same. Perhaps you’ve made his acquaintance already? He’s agreed to instruct both you and Ivano—one gilt silver for two hours. I should warn you, though, people often get the wrong idea about Oswald...”

“Um, if it has anything to do with his wives, I’m aware of that. Oswald was a friend of my father’s. I met him just the other day.”

A man like Oswald, who had had no less than three young wives, was bound to become a source of gossip. However, the fact that he had been her father’s friend was far more important to Dahlia.

“Well, I’m glad you know him through Carlo. He has a very kind and gentle manner, and it’s not unusual for ladies to take a shine to him and misconstrue his intentions. In truth, he’s much more dependable than he might appear.”

Her description reminded Dahlia of Volf. Contrary to what one might imagine, it wasn’t easy being an object of universal adoration. In Volf’s particular case, Dahlia felt nothing but sympathy. It was possible that Oswald shared his plight.

“I know firsthand what sort of trouble can arise. Our eldest daughter was only in elementary school when she started going to the Goddess’s Right Eye and buying all sorts of things... The next thing we knew, she was going to send an embroidered handkerchief to Oswald,” said Gabriella with a motherly look of consternation.

A gift of an embroidered white handkerchief from a noblewoman held a special significance. It declared, “You are my first love.”

Since children could only enter elementary school upon passing the entrance exams, not all did so at the same age. However, students were typically nine to fourteen years old. Dahlia had to admire the young girl’s moxie. Few would be so sure of themselves and so bold as to declare they’d found their first love at that age.

“So, what became of the handkerchief?”

“My husband stopped her before she could give it to Oswald. She didn’t speak to us for a full two weeks after that. Leone was in a foul mood too. He wandered about muttering, ‘Damn you, Oswald, hurry up and die already.’”

“Goodness...”

Dahlia wasn’t sure it was entirely fair of him to blame Oswald for his daughter’s behavior, but she understood how concerned he must have been as a father. Not only was there a considerable age gap between the two, but Oswald had also been married several times before. He was hardly a desirable suitor for the guildmaster’s daughter. Now that Dahlia thought of it, however, Oswald might still have been married only once at the time this incident took place.

“Well, love is like the measles, as they say. She gave up on him soon enough, and she’s happily married now. We can look back on it and laugh.”

“That’s a relief.”

“One never runs short of stories about Oswald, that’s for sure.”

“Something tells me I’d be happier not hearing them.”

She was afraid that if she heard any more, she’d be unable to keep a straight face in front of Oswald next time she saw him. He was doing her a considerable favor by agreeing to tutor her in the proper etiquette for the castle. The last thing she wanted was to appear rude. She resolved not to pry too deeply into his past, no matter what others might tell her about him.

“Mr. Oswald must be a busy man, what with his company and his shop to run. Are you sure I won’t be taking up too much of his time?”

“You needn’t worry about that. He has ample staff to assist him in all his business. He told me once that he actually devotes about half of his time to research. As a rule, he only accepts orders that come with plenty of leeway, and he always takes a vacation when he needs one.”

Oswald appeared to have achieved an enviable work-life balance. Dahlia wondered whether he might teach her and Ivano a bit about that too.

“As you are a woman, you’ll not be considered impolite for insisting Ivano attend your lessons with you. Please do so. While I believe Oswald ought to be quite content with three wives, I would advise caution nonetheless.”

“Caution? Surely there’s nothing for someone like me to be cautious of.”

“Someone like—Dahlia, is that supposed to be modesty? Or do you truly have that little confidence in yourself? I cannot tell.”

“Well, of course I...don’t have confidence.”

Under Gabriella’s intense, dark-blue gaze, Dahlia’s voice shrank to a murmur.

“You’ve never been a peacock, I grant you, but a little makeup soon brings out your beauty. You’re a company chairwoman with access to the castle and a toolmaker with a promising and profitable future near at hand. You’re well educated and the daughter of a baron. Despite all of that, you still doubt your attractiveness?”

“No one’s ever told me I’m beautiful before, and as for my company, it’s only Ivano and me. It was just luck that I hit on a couple of successes this time. Every time an enchantment fails, I lose money, and you never know how long an invention will keep selling. I may be the daughter of a baron, but I don’t think that means much anymore. Not now that he’s gone.”

Everything Gabriella had pointed out only sounded good if one didn’t dig too deep. The truth was that she was a very ordinary person, and the nature of her work meant that her finances were always unstable. Her being the daughter of a baron meant very little now that her father was dead. She had no other close relatives; as far as family was concerned, she was virtually alone.

“Believe in yourself, Dahlia. Chairman Bartolini, whom I was talking to earlier, came to me in the hopes of arranging a marriage interview with you for his son—less than three months since you broke off your last engagement. That was what was taking so long.”

“A marriage interview?”

“Yes, a marriage interview. It’s not the done thing, you know, for nobles. Marriage interviews are never conducted less than three months after one party has broken off an engagement or divorced, but he was adamant that you at least go to dinner or some such with his son. Bartolini is an earl, and you would be his son’s first wife. Not a bad proposition by any measure. What do you say? Would you like to meet him?”

“I’m afraid I have to decline,” Dahlia replied flatly. “I have no interest in romance or marriage.”

Gabriella narrowed her eyes. “So, would you like me to decline all offers that may come your way?”

“Yes, please do.”

“If you’d like to put them off, I imagine continuing to keep company with Sir Volfred will be a fine deterrent. Fair warning, though—it may chase them off for a good long time, or indeed forever.”

“That sounds ideal,” Dahlia said blithely, seemingly completely unfazed.

Something in Dahlia’s expression reminded Gabriella of her own beloved daughter, pouring her heart into every stitch as she embroidered a snow-white handkerchief. Now, as back then, there was little she could do but watch over Dahlia, pretending not to notice her true feelings. Then again, she was older now, and she had in her grasp a modicum of power.

Too softly for Dahlia to hear, Gabriella whispered to herself, “And if your deterrent drags his heels, don’t you worry. I’ll fire a shot across his bow.”

After leaving the vice-guildmaster’s office, Dahlia made straight for the nearest carriage stop to catch a ride home. Gabriella’s story about the embroidered handkerchief had reminded her of her father. She’d embroidered one herself once when she was much younger, perhaps six or seven—just old enough to handle a needle and thread. It was Sofia, the maid, who’d given her the idea.

“One day, you shall embroider a handkerchief of your own,” she’d said to the young Dahlia. “You see, it is traditional for a noble lady to present an embroidered white handkerchief to her first love.”

Dahlia hadn’t quite understood. At that age, her memories from her former life had still been dim and distant, and they contained no experience of romance, in any case. For some reason, that was perhaps linked to her physical development, she’d always had difficulty comprehending memories from stages of life she hadn’t yet reached in this world. Nonetheless, the words “first love” had made an impression on her, and she asked her father whether he had ever received a handkerchief.

He’d looked very grave as he’d replied. “An embroidered handkerchief? No. No one’s ever given me one.”

Carlo avoided Dahlia’s gaze, and she couldn’t help noticing something melancholy in his expression. It saddened her as well to see him that way. For whatever reason, her mother must have been unable to give him one.

“Would you still like someone to give you one, even now?”

“Yeah, I suppose it would be nice.”

“Even if it was me?” she asked hesitantly.

“Not from my own daughter,” she’d expected him to say. “Save it for your future sweetheart.” Or perhaps he’d tell her, “Well, go on, then,” and reluctantly indulge her. Her predictions were soon proven wrong.

“You bet I would!” he said immediately. “There’s nothing else I’d like more!”

Looking back now, Dahlia was sure that he’d just been trying not to hurt her feelings, but she had taken his words to heart and, under Sofia’s instruction, had begun embroidering him a handkerchief. They settled on a very simple design of a wild rose, using thread the same shade as Dahlia’s hair. Dahlia was determined to present him with it on the day of the winter festival.

She worked on it through every spare moment she had, even getting up at night to continue her needlework in secret. It must be remembered, however, that she was just a young child at the time, not even old enough to attend elementary school. The lines of her design were crooked, and the fabric was puckered—in all honesty, it was a mess. Not only that, but it was speckled with little red dots where she’d clumsily pricked her fingers on the needle. Upon its completion, it looked less like a token of love and more like something that needed exorcising.

“It’s cursed! I cursed it!” she’d wept to Sofia, who’d consoled her as best she could.

“It’s all right, dear; you did very well.”

Sofia had taken the handkerchief and carefully washed, starched, and ironed it. By the time she was finished, it was looking much more presentable.

“Father? I made you something.”

On the morning of the winter festival, Dahlia brought the handkerchief down to her father in the workshop. However, he didn’t take it from her right away. With a solemn expression, he rose from his chair and then knelt down on one knee before his daughter. He placed his right hand upon his chest in a refined noble gesture of gratitude before at last accepting the gift.

“Thank you, Dahlia. I’ll cherish it.”

Seeing her father beam at her filled Dahlia with a swell of joy, and she returned his smile. If that had been the end of it, it would have been a very heartwarming memory indeed, almost mawkishly so. However, the next thing her father had done was to playfully tousle her hair, ruining her winter festival hairstyle. Irma had arrived earlier that morning, insisting that Dahlia must have something special for the festival. She’d spent an age carefully braiding Dahlia’s hair and even decorated it with pretty floral ornaments. When she returned with refreshments a little while later, she was furious, and she made sure Carlo knew it before sitting down to fix Dahlia’s braids. Dahlia could never think about her handkerchief without revisiting this final act as well.

She doubted that little square of cloth was anywhere to be found in the tower now, but the memories of her father’s large hands mussing up her hair and Irma’s angry pout still remained to make her giggle.

Beneath a clear blue sky, Dahlia stepped from the Merchants’ Guild with a smile.

Ivano did not go directly to Orlando & Co. when he set out to collect the fairy glass. He had several other companies to visit first in order to inform them of his quitting the Merchants’ Guild to join the Rossetti Trading Company. They were all astonished, both by his change of employment and by his new name. However, Ivano had a feeling this news would create some positive buzz.

Considering the outlets and advertising they would need in the near future, it wouldn’t hurt at all to rouse some curiosity and get their name on the lips of the city’s merchants. It was Dahlia’s failed engagement to the Orlandos’ second son, Tobias, that had first brought her under public scrutiny. However, her activities since then had drawn much greater attention. Not only had she founded her own company, but she had done so with the backing of the guildmaster and Volfred Scalfarotto, no less. In no time at all, she’d developed her enchanted toe socks and drying insoles, which had garnered her access to the castle. It was these extraordinary achievements in such a brief period of time that had truly begun to turn heads.

The only problem was that few had had the opportunity to actually talk to Dahlia about these recent successes. Dahlia’s comings and goings between her tower and the Merchants’ Guild were always for business. Any other time she went out, she was almost always accompanied either by Volf or by Ivano himself. There were no sister companies among her guarantors, and she had no close relationship with any other company chairs. What’s more, her guarantors included a son of Earl Scalfarotto and the Merchants’ Guild guildmaster, Viscount Jedda. A newcomer though she was, she could not be taken lightly.

As much as some in the business community might desire information or to establish a relationship, Dahlia was not exactly easy to approach from an outsider’s perspective. Ivano, on the other hand, being a former guild employee—still on their books, officially—had become acquainted with a great many of the city’s business leaders and assisted in their dealings often. His presence was guaranteed to reassure some of them enough to reach out, and he was determined to take on as many inquiries and business dealings as he could handle. After that, it was all up to his prowess as a merchant.

Ivano climbed back aboard the carriage. Knowing he had a little time before he’d arrive at his next destination, he closed his eyes. Fatigue washed over him in an instant. Just as Dahlia had surmised, he had indeed been spreading himself thin lately. He fell into a doze, and suddenly, he saw a familiar red marsh open out in front of him.

“You good-for-nothing—where the hell have you been?!”

It was his uncle, roaring at him while tears streamed down his face. The man’s fist struck him, but he didn’t really feel the pain. Ivano had come home that morning in fine spirits, having spent the night at his girlfriend’s place. But all that had greeted him upon his return were his maddened uncle and the sight of three bodies shrouded by a hemp cloth. Out from beneath the cloth peeked three pairs of shoes—his mother’s, his father’s, and his younger sister’s. His uncle grabbed his arms, trying to stop him as he made to pull back the shroud, but he did it anyway. At that moment, he must have seen three faces, lifeless, yet far from at peace. However, he couldn’t recall anything of their expressions. It was as though they had all donned blank white masks.

His father had left a scrawled suicide note.

I am so sorry. We’ve lost the store because of my mistakes. We’ve lost everything. Your sister has always been sickly, so we will take her too. You must live on without us.

Ivano had nearly vomited when he’d read it. He could hardly recognize his father’s hand in those shaky, scribbled words. His father had always been neat and precise in everything he’d done. Ivano had known the business was in a rough spot, but his father had always reassured him that everything would turn out all right somehow. Only nineteen and newly in love, he’d thought of nothing else. He’d been blind to what was happening right in front of him.

Darkness began to envelop the bloodred marsh, anguished cries echoing on and on into the gloom.

“Couldn’t I dream about my first date with my wife or something?”

Ivano sighed. That nightmare hadn’t troubled him in some time. He gave his head a little shake, as though to chase the lingering images away. Whenever memories from before he’d come to this city surfaced in his dreams, it felt as though he were looking at them through someone else’s eyes. For him to still be unable to recall his family’s faces after all these years, even in a nightmare... It was too miserable to make light of, but he wasn’t going to allow a nightmare to get the better of him. He never had before, not even back when he’d first arrived here.

He’d been unable to face the funeral arrangements for his parents and sister, so his uncle had taken care of it for him. Once the service was over, the man had approached him with a little money and suggested he leave for the royal capital. Between the sympathetic and curious stares, the callous gossip, and reminders of his family at every turn, remaining in his hometown would have been suffocating. And so, one evening, as a crimson sun sank below the horizon, he stole away from the place he’d been born. However, contrary to what some might have expected, Ivano did not sink into despair and vanish into obscurity. The sole reason was that he had not left that town on his own. His girlfriend—now wife—had come with him.

When she first suggested to him that they leave together, he refused point-blank. He had no desire to drag her through any more hardship. He told her again and again, “Your family is here. Your work is here. I can’t give you a single reason to come with me; I have nothing.” But she wouldn’t listen.

The evening he intended to disappear from the town in secret, he found her waiting for him, bags packed, at the carriage stop. He could only stand there, struck dumb with amazement, as she declared, “I’ll be your family now!” and thrust an engagement bracelet onto his wrist without even waiting for a reply.

The bracelet was silver, set with blue moonstones. To this day, Ivano had never seen one more beautiful.

“We have arrived, Mr. Mercadante,” the driver called.

“Thank you.”

Ivano double-checked his shirt and tie, making sure his top button was fastened and his blue tie was straight and tight. His dark-blue three-piece suit was sweltering under the fierce sun, but Ivano was not about to let a little heat undo his impeccable appearance. He carefully dabbed the sweat from his brow and nape with a handkerchief before calmly pushing open the doors of Orlando & Co. He approached the front desk, announcing himself loudly enough for all around to hear.

“Good day. I am Ivano from the Rossetti Trading Company. I have an order to collect from you and another one to place.”

Instantly, the murmur in the office grew quieter, and Ivano became aware of many inquisitive glances darting his way. Ivano had a number of acquaintances here at Orlando & Co., but he had a distinct feeling that it was the name Rossetti, not his own, that had brought down this peculiar atmosphere.

“One moment, please, sir.”

The young woman attending the desk didn’t appear to be Tobias’s new wife Ivano had heard about. She bowed politely before disappearing into the back rooms.

“Ivano...?”

Hearing a familiar voice, Ivano turned to face the owner with a placid expression. It was Tobias. He looked a little thinner since Ivano had seen him last, and a little paler in the face.

“How nice to see you, Tobias. It’s been a while.”

“And you. Er... If I may, how do you come to be representing the Rossetti Trading Company while working for the Merchants’ Guild?”

“I resigned from my post at the guild. I’m employed at the Rossetti Trading Company now, and let me tell you, I don’t think I’ve ever been busier.”

He hadn’t officially quit the guild quite yet, but Tobias didn’t need to know that. Ivano surprised even himself with what a champion he was becoming for Dahlia. He wanted to leave her former fiancé in no doubt as to where his loyalties lay.

“Chairwoman Rossetti is working extremely hard as well, but flourishing.” Suddenly aware of his own wickedness, Ivano gave Tobias the sunniest smile he could muster.

“Indeed...?”

Ivano braced himself for a remark or prying question, but the man’s quiet reply was neither—anticlimactic, if anything. He actually looked relieved.

“She’s...doing well, then.”

“Yes, very well indeed,” Ivano answered simply, uncertain of Tobias’s meaning. He saw the other’s lips move almost imperceptibly.

“I’m glad.”

Ivano made no response to the barely audible whisper. That bridge had been burned. He had no intention of telling Dahlia anything that might weigh uncomfortably on her mind.

“Thank you for your patience, sir,” said the receptionist, reappearing. “Please come this way.”

“Thank you.”

Followed by a dozen pairs of eyes, Ivano was shown to a reception room where he found the company chairman, Ireneo, waiting for him. Were his eyes playing tricks, or was this man also looking a little thinner than he used to? He also couldn’t help noticing the dark circles beneath the man’s eyes—not that he was in any position to criticize. Those dark, almond-shaped eyes, very much like Ireneo’s predecessor’s, fixed on Ivano. For just a moment, he felt a distinct sensation of being appraised.

“Welcome. Do come in. I apologize for all the trouble my fool of a brother caused for you recently.”

“Oh, no need for apologies, sir. I am no longer with the guild; I work for the Rossetti Trading Company now. I’ve heard from the chairwoman that the matter is entirely settled, so let us speak no more of it.”

Ireneo invited him to sit down upon a sofa, and a clerk served them both tea. As the clerk left the room, Ireneo placed a silver, magically sealed box on the table.

“This is the fairy glass requested by Chairwoman Rossetti.”

“Thank you very much.” Ivano opened the box, inspecting the iridescent crystals inside. “Beautiful, isn’t it? I’m sure she’ll be delighted.”

He’d known more or less what to expect, having heard Dahlia describe fairy glass before, but the beauty of the real thing far surpassed what he’d pictured. Light in every color of the rainbow danced among the delicate, glittering, crystalline shards. He could see it shining more beautifully than any gemstone in a piece of jewelry.

“I have another order to place. I’m sorry it isn’t larger. Please let me know if there is anything too difficult to procure.”

Ireneo took the order form from him. His brows furrowed for a few seconds as he examined it, but his cool, impassive expression soon returned.

“I believe this should all be within our capability to find, although the black slime powder may take a little more time to locate.”

“You have my gratitude. Now then, I’ll just sign this for you...”

Ivano placed his signature upon the receipt for the fairy glass, deliberately writing it a little larger than usual, and handed it to Ireneo.

“Is that all in order?”

“Yes, Mr...Mercadante, is it?” Ireneo queried, hesitating as he read out the name and fixing Ivano with a quizzical look.

“Yes, that is my name. I am Ivano Mercadante.”

“Pardon my curiosity, but may I ask what’s prompted this name change? Have you been adopted into another family, perhaps?”

“No, I’ve simply gone back to my original one. My father was Oris Mercadante.”

Ivano saw the other man’s eyes widen.

“You don’t mean...the chairman of the Mercadante Company?”

“Yes, indeed. I am his son. I never imagined that you would remember our name. What an honor. Your ever-forethoughtful father was the first to cut ties with us, as I recall.”

Ireneo was unable to disguise his shock. With a twisted sense of satisfaction, Ivano smiled coldly.

It had been sixteen years ago. A company his father had been a guarantor for had gone under, leaving the Mercadante Company saddled with considerable debt. As word of this spread, the company’s business partners began to make their excuses and sever ties one by one. The effect snowballed, and Ivano’s father was soon left high and dry.

Orlando & Co. had been one of the first three companies to jump ship. Cutting off a failing partner was common sense for any business; Ivano didn’t resent them for it, but the names of those companies and even the order in which they’d left all remained etched in his memory. Ireneo, of course, would only have been in his late teens at the time, just learning the ropes—the same as Ivano had been. He had no grounds to hold anything against the man.

“Forgive me for dredging up the past,” Ivano said. “I’ve no intention of making trouble over ancient history. I was just pleased to hear that you still remember my father.”

Hearing that, Ireneo quickly regained his composure.

“Yes, I recall that your grandfather was also a very shrewd and talented man.”

He had to admire Ireneo’s mettle. There could be no doubt that he had the ideal character to run a sizable company like this. The man clasped his hands, and his dark eyes glanced at Ivano once again.

“Would you say you are more like your father or your grandfather, Mr. Mercadante?”

Keeping his expression impassive in response to that barbed question took all of Ivano’s resolve.

While famous as a shrewd businessman, Ivano’s grandfather had often been privately criticized for his ruthlessness. His father, by contrast, was respected as a kind man of integrity, but he was ultimately too soft for the cutthroat world of business. Some time after inheriting the successful company Ivano’s grandfather had built, his father had lost everything trying to help a friend in need. Ivano, powerless to change his family’s tragic fate, had simply fled.

During these sixteen long years, even after he had abandoned his old name, the bitterness clouding his heart had never ebbed. As a member of the Merchants’ Guild staff, his role had been only to support others in their entrepreneurial endeavors; all the while, he had constantly imagined what he would do were he in their shoes. Now, at long last, he had flown from under Gabriella’s wing to become a merchant in his own right. He didn’t intend to run from anything ever again. Bruised and battered though it was, he had never let go of his pride as a merchant. The name that he had chosen to bear once again belonged neither to his grandfather nor his father; it was his own.

“My wife says I don’t resemble either of them. Sons are more likely to take after their mothers, in her view.”

It was a subtle jab; Ivano had noticed that he’d seen very little of Ireneo’s mother in Orlando & Co.’s offices lately. This was unusual, and he could only guess that there had been some mishap involving a noble. Regardless, Ireneo’s courteous smile did not falter.

“I’m told I take after my father, myself,” he said.

“Indeed? I’ve always heard that he was blessed with the gift of foresight. If only we could all be so lucky.”

Of course, had the former chairman truly been so prescient, he would surely never have allowed his son to hurt or abandon Dahlia the way he had. From Dahlia’s perspective, the separation had turned out to be an enormous blessing in disguise, but who knew the true cost to Orlando & Co.?

Ireneo slightly arched an eyebrow. It appeared he’d struck a nerve. “I pray that our business shall be fair and prosperous.”

“As do I, sir. Fair and prosperous,” Ivano replied, echoing the phrase as they both extended their hands and shook.

It amused Ivano to find that each of their palms was as damp with sweat as the other’s.

Whether their two firms would flourish side by side in the coming years or meet in a fierce clash, Ivano couldn’t say. Whatever fate had in store for them, though, he was resolved to meet it head-on. Besides, would they really be merchants if they weren’t staring each other down with these practiced smiles, each trying to read the other’s mind and guess his next move? This time, Ivano was stepping into the world of business on his own terms, and he was not alone. Fortune had blessed him with the company of a goddess who turned all she touched to gold; at her side, he felt invincible.

“The Rossetti Trading Company looks forward to working with you, Mr. Chairman.”

This time, Ivano’s smile came from the heart.

“There’s something else I need to apologize to you for.”

Yesterday evening, Volf had sent a messenger to the Green Tower. According to his letter, there was an urgent matter he needed to talk to Dahlia about, and he asked whether they could meet sometime the next day or the day after. Dahlia had agreed to see him around midmorning.

He duly arrived bearing a box of cake. She showed him up to the second floor, and before he’d even taken a seat, he bowed his head in an apology.

“What’s happened?” she asked.

“The people following us the other night were guards sent by my older brother.”

“Oh, I see. Well, that’s good to know. It wasn’t anyone sinister, then.”

Dahlia held a hand to her chest as she sighed with relief. She’d been concerned that someone might have been out to harm Volf. She invited him to sit down, and he finally obliged. However, his expression was still troubled.

“There’s...one other thing. My brother’s been researching you, and I’m afraid I heard a little bit of what he found. I’m deeply sorry. He did it out of concern for me.”

“Erm, Volf, is that all?”

“He went prying into your affairs behind your back. Aren’t you angry?”

“Well, it doesn’t exactly feel good, but you are the son of an earl. I can appreciate him being worried about you spending time with a commoner like me. Besides, it’s not as though I have much to hide. My past isn’t all that interesting.”

She didn’t have a criminal record, nor had she been a high-flying honor student; there was little of note in her activities. She’d spent her childhood in the tower and the surrounding neighborhood and her student days going between the tower and school. Even since becoming a professional toolmaker, she’d never traveled far, spending her time between the tower and other places of business. Beyond that, she’d only ventured into town to eat with her father or friends or to go shopping. It was only in this last month that she’d started to go out far more frequently, and that was mainly with Volf.

All she could think of that might be of interest were her inventions—her waterproof cloth, toe socks, and so on. There was the matter of her engagement, of course, but it had been her former fiancé who’d instigated that affair, not her.

Just then, a thought stopped her in her tracks. How long had those guards been following Volf, exactly? If they’d been tailing him since she and Volf had set out that day, they might have seen her clutching his sleeve as they moved through the crowds. They might even have seen him scoop her up into his arms as he leaped for the rooftops. The very thought made Dahlia want to curl into a ball of shame and roll under the table. She felt her cheeks heating up.

“Dahlia?”

“I was just thinking about what we did the other day. It’s rather embarrassing. I was holding on to your sleeve like a child.”

“Now you mention it...I wonder how much detail they reported back to him.”

It appeared that Volf was also reflecting on his behavior. Dahlia noticed his cheeks redden—a rare sight—before he put a hand over his eyes and hung his head.

“A-Anyway, thank you for the cake,” she said quickly. “Why don’t I make us some tea?”

“If...you don’t mind...”

Volf didn’t move until Dahlia had gone to the kitchen.

“Now, drink up while it’s hot. This cheesecake looks delightful.”

With a hot cup of tea and a plate of cheesecake in front of him, Volf appeared to perk up a little.

“No matter what I do, I seem to end up apologizing to you in the end.”

“Don’t be silly. You’ve nothing to worry about.”

He still looked somewhat dispirited, dropping a whole three lumps of sugar into his tea—unusual for him.

“My brother’s bought a bit of land in the West District. He’s going to have a carriage station built there. Says it’s an investment.”

“That’s welcome news. It’s so difficult to get a carriage in this part of town, some people even move away because of it.”

“It’s that much of a problem?”

“Yes. The omnibuses aren’t very frequent here either, so if you have urgent business, or if someone gets sick or injured, you can end up in a real bind. I’m sure the locals will be delighted.”

It wasn’t rare for Volf to travel around the city by carriage, but he mostly went on foot. Perhaps his strengthening magic and swift feet had somewhat blinded him to the helpfulness of readily available carriages.

“We’ll have one of our carriages stationed there too; you’re more than welcome to use it for traveling to the guild or anywhere else in town. I’m away on missions so often, the horses’ll get bored otherwise.”

“By one of yours, you mean the Scalfarottos’?”

“Yes, but I’ll make sure it’s not anything too grand. I could even have your company name put on it if you like.”

“Oh, no, that’s all right. Ivano’s already made plans to buy a company carriage.”

“Fair enough. Please use this one in the interim, then. You’re a chairwoman now; you should avoid traveling alone where possible.”

There was something in Volf’s tone of voice that bothered Dahlia. About to slide her fork into a piece of cheesecake, she paused and leveled her gaze at him. He was the first one to glance away.

“Has something else happened?” Dahlia asked.

“Well...sort of.”

“If it’s something you’d rather not talk about, I won’t force you, but if you do have something to say, then please get it out.”

She could promise nothing more than to listen, but that might be enough for him to get whatever was troubling him off his chest. His gaze remained glued to the floor as he spoke.

“Thankfully it was just my brother’s guards this time, but I can’t help thinking what could happen if someone with a grudge against me tried to take it out on you. It scares me.”

“Nobody’s going to come after me, Volf.”

“You can’t know that. You never know who could be out there plotting against you or how they’re going to act. I learned that recently.”

“There has been something, hasn’t there? Tell me.”

“During the joint maneuvers the other day, a group of knights tried to attack me. Apparently, the leader’s fiancée had ordered him to invite me to a tea party. He wanted me injured so he’d have an excuse not to.”

“A group of knights? Gods, Volf, are you all right?!”

She couldn’t see any obvious wounds on him, but perhaps he’d just been patched up with healing magic.

“Thanks to the sköll bracelet, they didn’t put a single scratch on me. My comrades had my back too. Those men won’t get off lightly. I should think they’ll be sent back to basic training.”

“But this is awful! How could they do something like that?”

“The one giving orders was the son of a marquis. The others probably felt they couldn’t refuse. My brother came all the way out to the training ground to make sure I was all right. I doubt anything like that’ll happen again.”

Volf’s elder brother was slated to become a marquis once he inherited the Scalfarotto estate from his father. Volf had mentioned that they’d recently begun talking again after some years apart. It was comforting to know that someone in such a powerful position would be looking out for him. Even so, what those knights had done was unconscionable. Such behavior was far beneath men of their station.

It wasn’t as if Volf had even done anything wrong! Why hadn’t that man taken the matter up with his fiancée before taking his temper out on someone completely innocent? It was all Dahlia could do to control her anger as she sipped her tea. Glancing at Volf, she saw that his golden eyes were filled with melancholy. He opened his mouth to say something, closed it, and then, after a pause, he finally spoke.

“Taking everything into account, I think for your safety’s sake, it’d probably be best if you kept your distance from me, except when really—”

“I will not.” The words shot out before she had even half a moment to think. “Oh, Volf, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt like that.”

“No, don’t be. To be honest, I feel exactly the same way. That’s what I was about to say—this is what’d be best for your safety, but it’s not what I want, selfish as that might be.” Volf smiled gently, the darkness that had dwelled in his eyes moments ago now gone. Dahlia was deeply relieved to see it.

“I’m sorry. I just want you to be careful and let me do what I can to protect you. Not that that’s a whole lot; it’s thanks to my brother that you’ll have that carriage to use.”

“You do more than enough for me. The carriage will be a lifesaver.”

“I’m glad. Use it as often as you like. I know I’m probably worrying too much, but if you notice anything strange while you’re out in town or wherever, let me know right away, will you?”

“I will. I promise.”

Dahlia nodded and brought her teacup to her lips.

“If only I were just an ordinary commoner, I could be with you without all this fuss.”

Volf’s words were muttered so softly, Dahlia barely caught them. She’d already known that he felt this way, but hearing it spoken aloud made it that much more heartrending. Volf was a nobleman, she a commoner. For them to simply spend time with each other as friends was, in itself, abnormal. The relationship they’d managed to build in the short time since they’d met was nothing short of a miracle.

Dahlia had been surprised at herself when she’d interrupted Volf so forcefully, instantly bristling at the suggestion that he distance himself from her for her safety. She realized something then. Be it as a friend, a useful magical toolmaker, or a business associate, Dahlia wanted to remain right by Volf’s side for as long as she possibly could, talking with him, laughing with him, and making memories. This wish had been born without her even noticing it, and now it was nestled deep in her heart.

Was it jealousy? A desire to monopolize a friend she held dear? Was she trying to preserve the feeling of ease and comfort she enjoyed so much in his company? Or was she simply terrified of being left alone?

She’d never be able to admit to his face how attached to him she’d truly become. Whatever these emotions were, they had a grip on her that she wouldn’t be shaking off for a long time to come.

What could she do to ensure that she wasn’t a burden on him? To ensure that he wouldn’t need to protect her? She could throw herself into crafting useful new inventions, aim to be made a baroness, and expand the Rossetti Trading Company, but these would all surely be trifling accomplishments in the eyes of the Scalfarottos. Still, it was better than doing nothing.

She would work to better herself and her company the way she knew how—little by little, step by step. She wanted to earn the right to stand as an equal at Volf’s side, if such a thing was possible. At the very least, she wanted to become strong enough that he would never need to worry about her for as long as they were together. It wasn’t much, but she still had her pride.

“This tea’s gone a little cold, hasn’t it? I’ll brew us a fresh pot.”

Dahlia couldn’t quite bring herself to look Volf in the eye as she smiled and rose to her feet.