A Joyful Year-End - 3
Ever since I was little, my father had a saying.
"You may sell your pride, but never sell your conscience."
I heard those words over and over from the earliest days I can remember. They had been the catchphrase of my great-grandfather, the man who first opened the shop our family still runs.
That saying passed from great-grandfather to grandfather, from grandfather to father, and from father to me. A merchant might sell his pride for profit, but he must never sell his conscience and harm a customer—a piece of advice more precious than gold.
And it was truly beautiful, truly excellent advice. Because we followed it, a tiny stall tucked into the corner of a building slowly grew until we finally managed to buy an entire three-story building of our own.
"The success you enjoy now is not yours alone. It is the seed your ancestors planted that has finally sprouted."
Even so, I never grew arrogant. My father's dying words were carved deep into my chest.
That's right. It wasn't my ability. A miracle that turned a shop that began in a cramped side room into one of the capital's most respected large stores—how could a miracle like that be my doing alone?
That was why I hung my great-grandfather's portrait in the shop. Every single day I prayed before it. Let today pass without incident. Let today, too, be another day of miracles.
And when the prayer was finished, I polished the frame that was practically a family treasure. More precisely, the things inside the frames were the treasures.
Two frames hung where anyone would see them the moment they stepped inside. The packaging was splendid, the actual wording painfully short—but those commendations were living proof that neither I nor my ancestors had ever sold our conscience.
Proof that we never resorted to tricks to pay less tax, never committed a single dishonest act in the course of business. A proud medal awarded by the notoriously strict Collection Department and Audit Department at the same time.
After receiving those commendations, even high-ranking personages began frequenting the shop. Even an executive of the Audit Department itself visited. The capital's famous—in several senses of the word—Section Chief of the Second Division.
Thanks to that, I reached the point where I could receive almost any customer without so much as a flutter of nerves. If I could casually serve an Audit Department executive, ordinary nobles were nothing.
…Or so I once believed.
This is not what I asked for.
Apparently I had grown arrogant without realizing it. That must be why Great-Grandfather decided to punish me. There was no other way to explain the situation I was in now.
"The Section Chief of the Second Division said it would be enough if I mentioned his name."
"Y-yes, of course, sir."
I hastily bowed my head to the young man who spoke in a quiet voice. The black uniform that symbolized the Audit Department, the casual way he referred to the Section Chief of the Second Division—an executive.
No doubt about it. This man was the Audit Department Chief. He matched the description the Section Chief of the Second Division had once given me perfectly.
"He's younger than me, but he's pitch-black all over and looks like he'd draw blood if you so much as touched him. You'll know the feeling the moment you see him."
At the time I had wondered what kind of description that was supposed to be. Looking at the man now, I realized nothing could have been more accurate.
"Oh. So you were a certified clean merchant."
The Audit Department Chief, glancing around the shop, let out a small sound of appreciation.
"An undeserved title, sir."
"Nonsense. You received it because you deserved it."
His voice had softened compared to a moment ago, so I bowed even deeper. Fortunately, the first impression seemed good.
"More importantly, I came to buy some rings."
"You've come to the right place! I'll select pieces that will surely please you!"
The instant I heard the Audit Department Chief's words, instinct told me something.
If I handled this well, I could turn not only the section chief but the department chief himself into a regular.
When the Section Chief of the Second Division recommended a shop, I honestly wondered whether he was getting a kickback. Why else would he tell me to drop his name?
But the moment the Clean Business Practice commendation caught my eye, the doubt vanished. A place officially recognized by the Audit Department—of course an Audit Department executive would recommend it. If anything, pushing shops like this would only encourage others to work hard enough to meet the conditions for the award themselves.
"Unless it's a wedding ring, I would recommend choosing from the pieces already on display rather than placing a custom order."
And the man's business sense wasn't half bad either. I liked that.
"Is that so?"
"Yes. If it isn't a wedding ring, it's a ring that will eventually have to come off. Put too much effort into making it and the bride might find herself in an awkward position."
"That makes sense."
It was a persuasive argument; I found myself nodding without thinking.
He wasn't wrong. A wedding ring is something you wear for life, but right now these were more in the position of confession-acceptance-slash-engagement rings. Make them too flashy and they might end up dearer than the actual wedding bands—that would be a problem.
Besides, the (half-)ring Margarethe was currently wearing would have to come off someday. Handing everyone else rings meant to last a lifetime while that was the case felt a little…
"And although they were made in advance, they are by no means inferior pieces."
I could see that for myself. Every ring on display boasted an elaborate design.
"They even have magical adjustments applied, so the size adapts to the wearer."
I could see that too. The pattern engraved on the band. It was clearly similar to the (half-)ring I was wearing.
The shopkeeper seemed to notice the same thing; the look he gave my finger was complicated. Just what are you that you cut that thing in half and wear it? the eyes said.
But he quickly looked elsewhere. The cool professionalism of a merchant who doesn't pry into a customer's private life. Truly an excellent merchant.
"Hmm. Can you recommend a few? Diamonds will do for the gems."
"Of course!"
As if he had been waiting for those words, the shopkeeper presented a white ring.
"This one is based on platinum. It's a design that was popular in the past, so it may feel a little old-fashioned, but it has recently begun to trend again."
"I see."
I gave a light nod, and the next ring appeared.
Another nod, the next ring, another nod, the one after that.
I felt a little sorry for the shopkeeper who was showing them so earnestly, but honestly I couldn't tell them apart. Fashion and I had always lived on opposite ends of the continent.
"I'll take all of them."
So when the shopkeeper presented the fourth ring, I bought every single one he had recommended.
"…Pardon?"
The shopkeeper, who had kept a perfectly calm face even after learning my identity, flinched for the first time. A slowly rising head, an expression full of bewilderment, eyes that asked whether he had heard correctly.
Unfortunately, he had. The lunatic who buys four rings for his lovers at once—that would be me.
Fuck.
A sudden wave of self-loathing crashed over me. It isn't strange for one person to buy multiple rings. Polygamy is ordinary in this world.
But no one buys several at the same time. You take lovers over time; you don't take them all on the same day at the same hour.
"I under…stand. I'll wrap them right away."
A bizarre scene that made even the parties involved feel self-loathing. Yet the shopkeeper was a professional; he recovered almost immediately.
"If you keep the purchase receipt and warranty, returns are also possible."
"Understood."
No—mentioning returns at all suggested he still hadn't fully recovered. Adding a refund option to gifts meant for lovers? That was basically a curse that they'd break up, wasn't it?
Of course I didn't pick a fight over it. From the shopkeeper's common sense, buying a whole batch of rings at once was incomprehensible. I understood.
I never expected I'd end up like this either.
There probably isn't another bastard like me in the entire world.
A transaction in which both seller and buyer were left with strangely complicated feelings.
Still, I overcame the self-loathing and managed to secure four dazzling rings. This time as matching couple rings, so I wouldn't repeat the same mistake I made with Margarethe.
As a bonus, I had each case decorated with a ribbon of a different color so there would be no mix-ups. If I accidentally gave Luise the ring meant for the Magic Lord, I'd be handing her a design completely unsuited to her age.
No chance of confusion now.
Whether by coincidence or fate, the four people I intended to give the rings to each possessed a different color.
White, pink, yellow, red. The last one was eye color rather than hair, but who cares. As long as there was no overlap, it was fine.
White first, then.
I slipped the case tied with the white ribbon into a different pocket from the rest.
I had originally planned to buy the rings and head straight back, but the moment they were in my hands my mind changed. Having a gift ready for someone and then dragging my feet would be unforgivable.
Besides, the words the Magic Lord had spoken some time ago came back to me, and I felt I needed to hurry even more.
"Since there is the New Year's Audience, I suppose I shall have to wait until that day."
I had forgiven the Magic Lord last time, but I still hadn't given her a formal answer to her confession. In her heart the deadline was probably the New Year's Audience. She would be thinking that was when I would reply.
Of course I had no intention of doing that. Few things are more enjoyable than shattering the other party's expectations.
You have to strike first if you want the initiative.
Invaluable advice from the Wise Duke that had become flesh and blood to me.
Even if people said I had driven a siege hammer straight into her solar plexus, I couldn't deny the effectiveness. If I wanted to seize the initiative from a duke who had been dragging me around by the nose, I needed a shock of that magnitude.
Last time I rattled her by calling her true name. This time I would shake her with an answer and a gift she never saw coming, at a timing she never imagined.
Put that way I sounded like a complete bastard who toyed with someone's feelings, but the Magic Lord would be happy too, so it was a win-win.
Anyway, that was the plan.
For several days now, work had refused to hold my attention.
My eyes kept drifting from the documents to the calendar, and my hand kept reaching not for the pen but for the comb my Aga had given me.
Soon now.
Because Aga would come.
My heart pounded. I knew the Academy schedule. Closing ceremony had been a few days ago, so Aga must already be in the capital.
Even if business delayed him, he would certainly show his face for the New Year's Audience. Then I would be able to see Aga.
"See you next time, Beatrix."
"Hnnngh…!"
A ticklish, embarrassing, and at the same time thrilling feeling made me cover my face with both hands.
The voice I had imagined hundreds, thousands of times since that day. The mere recollection of it made my cheeks burn.
I never knew being called by name could make someone so happy. Not the stiff "Beatrix Katoban of Servet" that was used at official functions. It was a name spoken with affection between people close to each other. That was definitely what it had been.
"See you next time, Beatrix."
Aga's voice rose again in my mind. I could feel my ears fluttering so hard I could barely control them.
But I was also a little disappointed. If he had called me by name right then, if he had even spoken casually—wouldn't that have brought us closer? Even if I tried to run, he could have caught my wrist and pulled me straight into an embra—
No.
I hurriedly shook my head and swept the fantasy away. I was already happy enough; wishing for that much more was greed.
There was no need to rush. I still had decades left in which Aga would call my name, decades left to share affection.
"They say it will take forty years for this to take effect. We still have plenty of time. Let's worry about it together until then."
The words Aga had spoken that day clearly meant he would stay with me.
He still hadn't formally accepted my confession, but for all practical purposes it was the same as accept—
Knock knock.
A noise that interrupted my happy daydream made me frown without thinking.
"Tower Master. The Audit Department Chief has arrived."
The secretary's report immediately smoothed my brow again.
To think Aga would come at the very moment I was thinking of him. Perhaps Aga and I were connected by something after all?
"L-let him in."
In my joy I stammered.
How embarrassing. I mustn't let Aga think I can't even speak properly.