Meanwhile, Rewinding Time: The Perfect Gift
Meanwhile, rewinding time a bit to when Ashytara was at the Sun Tower.
Ludenberg Lavante had arrived at Solium Merhen, the jewelry shop recommended by the maids.
Whether he'd luckily avoided the Salvation Cult's raid or the place had been swiftly repaired in the past week, this massive emporium stood proudly in its pristine state, exuding its presence.
Stepping into such a place for the first time, Ludenberg entered Solium Merhen with a faintly tense expression.
As the door opened, a dazzling array of jewels assaulted his eyes. Glass display cases showcased all manner of ornaments in their finest glory.
But Ludenberg had no clue which of these might suit Ashytara. He simply lacked that kind of sensibility entirely.
Any other highborn heir would have absorbed enough exposure to fine jewelry to quickly discern what worked and for whom, but Ludenberg was utterly clueless in such matters.
For five relentless years, his life had been wake, train, complete Father's assignments—rinse and repeat. At seventeen, his existence had been nothing but unyielding self-discipline.
A pang of regret surged through him.
Damn it. Should've brought one of the maids along.
As he dithered awkwardly in the shop, a clerk finally approached.
"Excuse me, sir. May I help you find something?"
"Ah, yeah. Looking for jewelry as a birthday gift."
The clerk didn't bat an eye at Ludenberg's casual tone. One glance screamed high nobility.
"A birthday gift, I see. Do you have anything particular in mind?"
"Not really up on jewelry... Something comfortable to wear, maybe."
Comfortable? The clerk blinked in mild confusion.
"Does the recipient move around a lot?"
Ludenberg nodded.
"Ah, then how about a pendant?"
"A pendant?"
"Yes."
Ludenberg pondered. No headpins or earrings with a helmet; rings were out with gauntlets and a greatsword. Pendant it was.
"Yeah, pendant sounds good."
"Perfect. Any preferred gem or shape?"
"Gem..."
Another hurdle. Gems? He only knew diamonds, but a diamond pendant felt excessive. The maids had said Ashytara disliked gaudy things—she'd hate it.
"If gems don't appeal, we can custom-make one from special metals."
"Special metals?"
"Yes. The imperial family commissions us often, so we handle solium. The shop name says it all."
"Hold on—solium? Isn't that impossible to work without a Solem priest?"
"No worries. Solium Merhen was founded by an imperial branch member. That's why they trust us. Solium crafting is no issue."
"Then solium it is."
"Next, the shape? Here's a sample."
"Shape too? Custom orders?"
"Yes, though it takes extra time compared to samples. Is that alright?"
Ludenberg nodded. Plenty of time till Ashytara's birthday, and inscribing victims' names at the Sun Tower would take days anyway.
"Need a bit to think on the shape. Okay?"
"Of course. Take your time. Pen and paper?"
"Thanks."
Seated with paper and pen, Ludenberg sketched pendant ideas.
What would Tara like... what shape?
He delved into memories of what Ashytara cherished.
Ashytara's birthday still evoked vivid memories for Ludenberg. She didn't like it much—couldn't, really.
Her birthday marked Empress Itara Solenute's death.
Even after they grew close, she chose sorrow over joy, haunted by guilt for "stealing" her mother's life.
Ludenberg still recalled her tenth birthday. Despite the lavish party, she'd moped all day.
Puzzled, he'd asked why. That's when he learned her past—the shadows of Empress Itara, the whispers that plagued her: the princess who devoured her mother.
Those words had scarred her deeply.
Realizing this, Ludenberg rejected her guilt. Losing a mother was sad, but not her fault.
Usually playful, that day he roamed the palace, grilling older maids who'd served Itara.
Perplexed by the Lavante heir's quest, they spilled tales under his veiled threats.
Piecing them together, Ludenberg concluded: Itara had loved Ashytara fiercely—no guilt needed.
He rushed to her. The main events had ended; she sat alone in the garden.
"Tara. What're you doing out here?"
"Lud. Just... doesn't feel like my place in there."
"What're you talking about?"
"You know. I'm the kid who ate my own mom."
"You believe that nonsense?"
"It's not nonsense—it's true. Mom would be alive if not for me."
"So it's your fault? No, Tara. Absolutely not. Listen."
Heart aching at her self-blame, he recited the maids' stories.
"Empress Itara defied everyone to have you. From the moment she conceived, she was overjoyed."
"Then why do they hate me so much?"
"They miss her that fiercely. They're not blameless... but you're innocent, Tara."
No maid had said this—they prioritized the dead over the living, trapped in shadows.
"Really?"
"Yeah. And look—these blue flowers blanketing the garden."
"What about them?"
"Maids told me. Itara planted them all. Lisiansus flowers."
"What's that?"
"Dunno details... but she cherished you enough for this. Don't blame yourself, Tara."
Ashytara burst into tears, unleashing pent-up grief.
Right... that flower. She loved them ever since. Etch that into the pendant?
After much thought, Ludenberg decided. With decent skill, he sketched the flower and handed it over.
"Make it like this."
The clerk glanced, impressed by the clean lines.
"Nice—clear at a glance. Lisiansus, right?"
"Yeah."
"Know the flower's meaning?"
"Hm? No—just her favorite."
"Got it. Proceed like this?"
Ludenberg nodded silently.
"Ready in a week. Payment... this amount."
He checked the sum—less than Professor Nah Tes's gift money, but steep. Solium's value, no doubt. He counted exact gold coins from his pouch.
"Confirmed. Your name, sir?"
"Ludenberg Lavante."
"The Lavante ducal heir. Noted, Ludenberg."
The clerk stayed composed—used to elites.
"See you in a week."
"Yes. Thank you for visiting."
Business done, Ludenberg left Solium Merhen and headed back to the palace. Now, just wait for Ashytara's birthday.