31.
“Bangtong Square.”
“Why there, all of a sudden?”
He couldn’t possibly be planning to go sightseeing at that hideous green tower or the Emperor’s statue standing in the center of the square.
“Ah, are you heading there to meet an investor coming in from across the border?”
Aside from the eyesore occupying the center of Bangtong Square, the only thing that came to mind was the cluster of ultra-luxury hotels surrounding it. The guests staying at these hotels—where a single night’s stay cost more than a commoner earned in a month—were almost exclusively aristocrats or foreign businessmen.
Given the recent articles about the railway project, there had been quite a few capitalists showing interest. Auguste didn’t think much of the destination, but the answer that left Max’s mouth was not what he had expected.
“No, a jewelry store.”
“What? Why a jewelry store?”
Max recalled his conversation with Freya from that morning.
“An invitation to the Imperial Ball has arrived. Shall I reply that we will attend as a couple?”
“Sure.”
“Okay. Then I’ll send the reply as such.”
Freya, who had been about to turn away, made a small sound of “Ah,” and paused.
“And today, I have to go for a fitting for the dress I’ll wear to the ball. I’ll be back to work starting tomorrow.”
Does she have any idea what business is! It felt as if Auguste’s grumbling was ringing in his ears. Max chuckled and rose from his seat.
“Yes, do that…”
With a faint smile, Max moved to open the door, but his expression suddenly stiffened. He pulled the woman, who had been turned halfway toward him, sharply by the arm.
“Why, why are you doing this?”
Freya asked in confusion, but Max only stared at the base of her neck with a terrifying expression. A thin, red line was drawn across her skin, which was unusually pale today.
“…Ah, this.”
Freya’s hand rose to cover her neck, as if embarrassed. Max caught her wrist with a firm grip and pulled her hand away.
“It’s nothing. I told you, didn’t I? That I went to the auction house to see Asil Delaporte. I went for a walk in the forest while I was there and got scratched by a tree branch.”
A very thin laceration. Given the consistent depth and shape of the wound, it was the work of someone who handled a sword with lethal precision.
*Who did this?* The question surged to his throat.
*What are you going to do by asking such a thing?*
Does he intend to play the role of a husband at this late stage? Max smiled askance and answered Auguste.
“I’ve decided to attend the Imperial Ball.”
“You’re going? All of a sudden? Don’t tell me your wife was the one who dragged you into this?”
Just as Max had expected, Auguste’s face contorted as if he had stepped in filth.
“Good grief, she’s trying everything now. I should have known when she started bringing up ‘marital duty’… Well, leaving the ball aside, what does that have to do with a jewelry store? Don’t tell me she demanded you buy her something to wear.”
“No. I didn’t. She didn’t say anything like that.”
Come to think of it, Freya had never demanded he buy her anything. Not before the marriage, nor after.
In the early days, there were times she would return from an outing having bought something for him. She had stopped even that once she realized he never used the items she gifted him.
“I just wanted to congratulate her on her debut into high society.”
Thinking of the red wound on the neck of the woman who had just left, Max’s fist clenched.
It was just a scratch, after all. On the battlefield, it was common to see arms and legs severed. Yet, that thin, thread-like mark on her neck refused to leave his vision.
“…I really can’t figure you out. Anyway, do as you please, boss. Come to think of it, what happened with your wife meeting my father? Did she manage it?”
“Yeah, but there weren’t any particular results.”
“Ha, of course. Understood. Please, go on ahead.”
Auguste shook his head and waved a hand dismissively.
✦ ✦ ✦
It was an impulsive decision.
It was the first ball his wife would be attending, and likely the last one he would ever attend with her. And then, there was that wound.
It was both a reason and an excuse.
Fifteen years. In all that time, he had never once handed her a gift.
During their engagement, instead of earning his own way, he had simply drifted between the school and Blanc Castle, exactly as the Duke wanted, exactly as his father wanted.
After the marriage, he struggled to protect his father’s business, and after that was lost, he devoted himself to growing his own. Among the many things weighing on him, a gift for his wife had never been a priority.
*And yet, a gift at this late hour…*
Max’s footsteps stopped in front of the jewelry store.
What did it matter to him that she was attending her first ball? Especially when a divorce was already planned.
He should go back. With that thought, Max pushed open the door.
“Welcome.”
Inside the boutique were two luxuriously dressed ladies and one man.
“Is there a specific piece of jewelry you are looking for?”
A middle-aged woman approached, offering a practiced smile.
“…Do you have emeralds?”
“Of course. If you follow me inside, we will prepare them for your viewing.”
As he followed the woman, they entered a small parlor furnished with a velvet sofa, a low table, and several mirrors. A short while later, the woman and a male clerk returned with several jewelry boxes.
“Is this a gift?”
“…Yes.”
“For whom is it intended?”
“My wife.”
“Oh my, how romantic.”
The woman, with a look of feigned envy, signaled the clerk. Five or six boxes were soon lined up on the table.
“Our boutique only deals in top-quality emeralds. If you wish, we can process raw stones to your specifications. However, as jewelry gains value with age, we recommend you first look at our stock.”
When the boxes were opened, emeralds of various sizes shimmered, reflecting a brilliant light.
“First, if I may speak of these earrings…”
Max scanned the boxes while only half-listening to the provenance of the pieces. He pointed to one set.
“I’ll take this one.”
“Ah, you have excellent taste. This necklace and earring set was crafted for Madam Dramot in the early 1700s…”
A necklace of emeralds surrounded by diamonds, with matching earrings. The moment he saw them, her eyes came to mind.
The woman continued to drone on about the noble families who had owned the sets, but Max remained silent. Finished with her pitch, she stood up with a polished smile.
He followed her to the counter, where she presented high-quality paper and a quill.
“If you leave your address, we will send it to your residence.”
Max hesitated for a moment before writing down the address of his office, not the mansion.
✦ ✦ ✦
“How is it? Do you like it?”
Paul asked with a confident expression.
“Yes, I like it.”
Freya smiled at her reflection. True to Paul’s signature style, the dress was pure white.
Over an underskirt of horsehair and linen, he had layered a tiered skirt of white organza. The bodice was off-the-shoulder, finished with intricate lace around the upper arms that perfectly highlighted her elegant frame.
It was a design similar to the dress in her memory, yet it had been refined to maximize her own unique charm. Being the first to wear one of Paul’s debut designs felt strangely pleasant.
As Freya turned back toward Paul, she was taken aback. Despite her approval, Paul looked dejected.
“Why are you making that face?”
“I expected you to be a little more surprised or happy…”
Ah. Freya gave a gentle, troubled smile. She hadn’t worn a dress for the first time, but for Paul, today was the unveiling of his craft.
“Of course I was surprised. To the point where I couldn’t even properly express it. I knew you would not disappoint me, Paul.”
“Ah, really? I mean, anyone who could look at a design like this and not be stunned must have a problem with their eyesight!”
Beside Paul, Inès put a hand to her head and shook it.
“It would have been even more beautiful if you hadn’t left such a scratch on her fair skin… Ah, why are you pinching me!”
The tailor, who lacked any filter, glared at Inès, who had secretly pinched his arm. Unfortunately, it seemed Paul’s etiquette training had made little progress. Still, since she truly was satisfied, Freya let the comment pass.
“Then I will have this design adjusted for the parts we talked about today and send it to your residence.”
“I look forward to it.”
As she finished the fitting and boarded the carriage, Milla suggested,
“Madam, now that we’re out, why don’t you look for some jewelry that goes well with the dress?”
“Hmm, should I?”
“Yes, it’s the first Imperial Ball you’ve been invited to! You must look beautiful enough to surprise everyone.”
“Bangtong Square isn’t far from here. Shall we go?”
In Bangtong Square, beyond the hotels, many luxury jewelry stores were gathered. It wasn’t just any ball, but an Imperial Ball; she needed to put in the effort, just as Milla said.
The carriage carrying the two women entered Bangtong Square shortly after.