As Sharon and Caleb dived into a passionate discussion about clothing and accessories, Astrid stood by, utterly excluded from the exchange.

The intensity of their conversation left her no opportunity to intervene. She had become an invisible observer in their meticulous planning.

As time went on, Astrid’s face grew increasingly expressionless. The light in her lively eyes dimmed entirely.

‘She said she doesn’t take orders without the client present, so why is she taking one now? And why does Caleb know so much about women’s clothing? He said it wasn’t for her, but… This must be for Elena after all…’

Caleb flatly denied it. Astrid knew logically that he wasn’t the type to shamelessly make her choose a gift for Elena, but even so…

Her normally rational mind, which had always guided her life ahead of her emotions, refused to cooperate today.

Lingering resentment and doubt about Caleb, along with a faint sense of blame, began gnawing at Astrid’s desolate heart, slowly sprouting within her. She even found herself irrationally disliking Sharon, who had done nothing wrong.

‘Why have I become like this? So petty.’

At that moment, she hated her heart—persistent and heedless as it was—and Caleb, who made her feel so insignificant.

Astrid, who had been sitting silently on the sofa like a decorative object, was finally released from it after quite some time.

By then, the guidebook Sharon had brought over was filled with vibrant fabric samples in various sections.

“For now, these are the designs we’ve decided on. As I work on the tailoring, I’ll adjust anything that needs refinement or incorporate any new ideas that come to mind. I’ll be focusing solely on this project for the time being. I promise to give it my all, Your Grace.”

“Are you of noble birth?” Caleb asked.

“…!”

At his words, Sharon, who had been bowing politely to the pair, froze stiffly. Caleb looked down at her and let out a soft chuckle.

“They say in Bliss, professions carry no distinction of high or low, and I see it’s true. Even the Grand Duke of Bliss is known to dabble in blacksmithing, isn’t he?”

“…Yes. In Bliss, noble families are often long-standing artisan lineages.”

Sharon, stiffly formal, confirmed her noble roots now that Caleb had uncovered her status. Instantly, his sharp gaze fixed on her tense face.

“As long as there are no monster attacks, Cliff is a dull and peaceful place. I trust you’ll spend your time here quietly and enjoyably, Lady Sharon. I hope I won’t have any reason to be inconvenienced by you.”

“…!”

“Or should I call you Madame?”

“…Yes. Here, I am simply Sharon, the tailor.”

From the beginning, Caleb had found her odd. Though she mimicked a cheerful, savvy merchant, Sharon exuded an innate confidence that was hard to conceal. On top of that, she had the audacity to reject noble customers for reasons as trivial as personal dislike.

Only someone with nothing to lose could act that way.

Satisfied that his warning was understood, Caleb decided to change the topic.

“Well, shall we look at some jewelry now? My territory doesn’t see much variety in goods. Without ordering from other nations, it’s hard to acquire quality items.”

The phrase my territory carried a great deal of weight as it left Caleb’s lips.

“…Caleb,” Astrid said, suddenly lifting her head to gaze directly at him. But it was only she who seemed flustered. Caleb and Sharon both maintained calm expressions as if nothing had happened.

Their conversation naturally veered into the state of the jewelry trade in the Western Continent. Astrid, belatedly, realized the truth.

They already knew.

Judging by how easily “Your Grace” had slipped from Sharon’s lips, she must have recognized Caleb’s identity long ago. Astrid had been so preoccupied with her own thoughts that she was the only one left in the dark, fretting over nothing.

“This way, Your Grace. Although we’ve combined two stores into one space, they can function independently. Ah, Guol is currently in consultation. Would you mind waiting a moment?”

“Of course.”

“…”

It seemed that the lady who had thrown the guidebook earlier had already left. Guol was now assisting another customer.

Seated across from him was a middle-aged woman whose wealth was apparent at a glance. She was examining a ring, its sparkling brilliance catching the light as she turned her plump, pale hand this way and that.

The gem set in the center of the ring was a vivid purple, its size so large and opulent that it seemed almost blinding.

“…Purple crystal?” Astrid murmured softly, her eyes drawn to the jewel. Sharon stiffened and turned to Astrid with a rigid expression.

Crystal itself was a relatively inexpensive gemstone known to everyone, but purple crystal was a different story. Sourced from a small nation near Bliss, it was a rare gem, scarcely known outside its place of origin.

How does she recognize it…?

In its homeland, purple crystal was as common as pebbles and traded for mere pennies. The master artisans of Bliss dismissed it as a gaudy, cheap stone unworthy of attention. Guol, however, thought differently.

Before his journey to the Western Continent, Guol had traveled to a neighboring nation, purchasing purple crystal in bulk. Over time, he carefully crafted it into various pieces of jewelry.

In the end, Guol was proven right. After establishing his shop in Cliff, purple crystal became a highly sought-after, luxurious gem in disguise, fetching exorbitant prices.

Curiously, those who had visited Bliss and knew the truth about the gem’s origin changed their attitudes instantly once it began trending among wealthy merchants and noblewomen.

As demand grew, so did its price. Lady Clara, who had thrown a tantrum earlier, had spent a fortune acquiring a full set of purple crystal jewelry.

Astrid stared at the middle-aged woman who was twirling her ring with a flushed face. Her features were strangely familiar.

That woman is definitely…

The woman’s plump, rosy face stirred something in Astrid’s memory, but she couldn’t quite place her.

“So, madam, shall we settle on this piece?”

“Certainly, Guol. How much was it again? A thousand talents?”

“Yes! This is a special discount, just for you. Normally, I sell my most valuable items at full price, but consider this my humble attempt to secure your patronage.”

“Oh, my! Is that so?”

“Of course! Most importantly, this piece seems as if it was meant to be yours from the start, Madame. As its creator, I feel truly delighted to see my work find such a perfect owner.”

“Oh my!”

The woman, with her soft and plump hand pressed to her cheek, blushed shyly. Every time she moved, the intricately cut facets of the gemstone on her finger cast dazzling halos of light.

It was almost blinding to behold.

“Excuse me, Lady Harley?”

“Oh heavens! Your Grace, the Grand Duchess!”

Startled by Astrid’s sudden appearance, Harley hurriedly stood up. Her movements were so abrupt that the small wooden chair supporting her considerable weight toppled over with a clatter.

“Ah!”

As her ankle struck the chair, Harley let out a pained gasp and wobbled precariously.

“My Lady!”

Astrid reached out in alarm, but she was too late. Help came from another direction instead. A firm pair of hands caught Harley by her waist. It was Guol.

Despite her weight, he didn’t even flinch as he steadied her, his expression remaining calm and composed.

“Are you all right, My Lady? I apologize for touching you without permission, but I could not allow you to hurt yourself.”

“Oh, no, Mr. Guol, it’s quite alright. But Your Grace, what brings you here…?”

Harley, unable to meet Guol’s eyes, darted her gaze around nervously until it landed on Caleb, seated at a distance.

“Your Grace, the Grand Duke!”

Her voluptuous, crimson lips parted in a small gasp. Harley had heard that the Grand Duke of Cliff spent more than half the year on the battlefield and the remainder secluded in his fortress. He was said to be virtually absent from social gatherings.

Yet here he was, sitting in a jewelry shop. Her shock was understandable.

Harley shook her head vigorously, collecting herself, and grasped the hem of her skirt with trembling hands.

“My respects to Your Grace.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, My Lady Harley. It seems my wife has something she wishes to say to you.”

At this unexpected remark, Harley’s eyes widened as she turned toward Astrid.

“The Grand Duchess? Has something to say to me? But why…?”

The Grand Duchess was another person rarely seen in places like this. According to her husband, who managed the factory producing “Cliff’s Tears,” she was remarkably frugal and unfamiliar with extravagance.

Harley, on the other hand, was a passionate lover of jewelry, the type to leap out of bed at the mere mention of a new collection. Her husband often scolded her for her spending habits, citing the Grand Duchess as an exemplary role model.

Harley had only seen the Grand Duchess once before, at the factory’s opening ceremony. However, her husband mentioned her so frequently that she had come to feel a peculiar sense of familiarity.

While Harley tilted her head in curiosity, pondering Astrid’s intentions, a warm sensation enveloped her hand.

The soft and gentle touch belonged to the Grand Duchess.

“…!”