From a young age, my father often told me:

"Even if you sell your pride, never sell your conscience."

This was a phrase I heard repeatedly as a child, a saying that originated with my great-grandfather, who founded our family business.

The wisdom of those words was passed down from my great-grandfather to my grandfather, and then to my father before finally reaching me. The advice was simple yet profound: as a merchant, it was acceptable to set aside your pride for profit, but we should never compromise our conscience and harm our customers.

This advice was both beautiful and invaluable. By adhering to it, our small shop, which began in a tiny corner of a building, gradually expanded. Eventually, we were able to purchase an entire three-story building.

"This success isn't yours alone. It's the result of the seeds sown by your ancestors."

Yet, I never allowed myself to become arrogant. Father's words stayed with me, deep in my heart.

That’s right, this success wasn’t mine alone. The shop that started in a small, cramped room has miraculously grown into a well-known, large store in the capital; how could I have accomplished such a feat by myself?

To honor the origins of this miracle, I hung a portrait of my great-grandfather in the shop. I prayed before the portrait every day, asking for another day as miraculous as the last.

And after each prayer, I would clean the frame of a treasured family heirloom. The real treasure wasn't the frame itself, but what it held.

[ Faithful Taxpayer Award - Issued by the Empire’s Ministry of Revenue ]

[ Certificate of Honest Business - Issued by the Empire’s Finance Department’s Minister ]

These two framed certificates were placed where they were immediately visible upon entering the shop. Though the text was brief compared to the ornate design, they were proof that neither I nor my ancestors ever compromised our conscience.

These certificates were evidence that we didn't cheat on taxes or engage in dishonest practices. They were a proud testament to our recognition by both the Revenue Department and the Finance Department, two notoriously strict departments.

After receiving these certificates, even high-ranking officials began frequenting our shop. Among them was the 2nd Manager from the Prosecutors’ Office, who became a regular. His reputation was well-known in the capital.

Thanks to this, I reached a point where I could handle almost any customer without feeling nervous. After all, dealing with ordinary nobles was no big deal if I could regularly serve a Manager of the Prosecutors’ Office.

Or so I once thought.

This isn't what I wanted.

It seems that I became arrogant without realizing it. Perhaps that was why my great-grandfather was punishing me now. Otherwise, what was happening now didn’t make any sense.

"The 2nd Manager said that I could use his name to get what I needed."

“Y-yes, of course.”

I quickly bowed as the young man spoke quietly. That black uniform, symbolizing the Prosecutors’ Office, and the casual way he referred to the 2nd Manager left no doubt.

This was the Executive Manager of the Prosecutors’ Office himself. Besides, his appearance matched the description the 2nd Manager had once given me.

"He's younger than me, but his presence is so intimidating it feels like you might bleed if you crossed him. You’ll know him when you see him."

At first, I wondered what kind of description that was, but seeing him in person now made me realize that there couldn't be a more accurate portrayal.

"Oh, so you're the 'Honest Businessman.'"

The Executive Manager commented as he looked around the shop.

"The title is more than I deserve."

"Nonsense. You earned it."

His voice became warmer, and I bowed even deeper. It seemed that I had made a good first impression.

"Actually, I'm here to buy a ring."

"You’ve come to the right place! I'll help you find something perfect!"

The moment he mentioned the ring, I had a gut feeling.

If I play my cards right, I might turn him into a regular customer just like the 2nd Manager.

***When the 2nd Manager first recommended this shop, I wondered if he was getting a commission. Why else would he tell me to use his name?

But when I saw the ‘Honest Businessman’ certificate, my doubts vanished. It made sense for a place recognized by the Prosecutors’ Office to be recommended by its civil servants. In fact, supporting such businesses could encourage other shops to meet the criteria for these awards.

"If it's not a wedding ring, then I’d recommend choosing something from our display rather than custom ordering it."

I was also impressed by the shopkeeper’s business acumen.

"Is that so?"

"Yes. It’s something that will eventually be taken off if it’s not a wedding ring. If you put too much effort into it, it might make the bride feel awkward."

"That makes sense."

It was a convincing argument, so I found myself nodding in agreement.

He wasn’t wrong. A wedding ring was something you wore for life, but this was more of an engagement ring—a promise ring. It could cause trouble later on if it ended up being more cherished than the wedding ring.

Besides, Marghetta was already wearing a ring (well, half of one) that she’d have to remove someday. Giving someone a ring meant to be worn for life might seem a bit much.

"And even though these rings are pre-made, they’re by no means inferior."

I could see that just by looking. Each ring on display boasted a stunning design.

"They’re even enchanted to adjust to the wearer’s size."

I could tell that, too. The markings on the rings' bands were similar to the ones on the ring I was wearing.

The shopkeeper seemed to notice this as well, his gaze lingering on my finger with a mixture of curiosity and confusion. It was as if he was silently asking, ‘What kind of person are you that you’re wearing only half of a ring?’

However, he quickly looked away, respecting my privacy—a sign of a truly skilled merchant.

"Hmm, could you recommend me something? The gemstone should be a diamond."

"Of course!"

The shopkeeper, as if waiting for that cue, immediately presented a white ring.

"This one is made of platinum. It’s a design that was popular in the past so it might feel a bit old-fashioned, but it’s recently come back into fashion."

"I see."

I nodded slightly, and he brought out the next ring.

Then after another nod came out another ring. I nodded again, and yet another ring appeared.

I felt a bit guilty for responding so blandly to his efforts, but to be honest, I couldn’t tell the difference. Fashion wasn’t really my forte.

"I’ll take them all."

So, when the shopkeeper showed me the fourth ring, I decided to buy all the ones he had recommended.

"...Pardon?"

For the first time, the shopkeeper, who had remained calm even after realizing who I was, flinched. He lifted his head slightly, his face filled with confusion. He had a look in his eyes as if he was questioning if he had heard correctly.

Unfortunately for him, he had. I was the kind of person who bought four rings at once for his partner.

Damn it.

A wave of self-loathing washed over me. It wasn’t unusual for someone to buy multiple rings—after all, polygamy was common in this world.

However, no one bought multiple rings all at once. Even if someone took on multiple partners, it was something that happened over time and not all at once.

"Understood. I’ll wrap them up right away."

The shopkeeper quickly regained his composure despite the bizarre situation.

"You can return them as long as you have the receipt and the warranty."

"Got it."

However, the fact that he mentioned returning them made me wonder if he was still a bit rattled. Who talked about returns for gifts meant for lovers? It almost felt like a bad omen, implying that the relationship might not last.

But I didn’t hold it against him. From his perspective, buying multiple rings at once must seem outlandish. I get it.

I didn’t see this coming, either.

I doubt there was anyone else in the world quite like me.

***It was a transaction filled with subtle emotions on both sides—seller and buyer alike.

Still, I managed to push through the self-doubt and secure those dazzling rings (all four of them). This time, I made sure that they were matching rings to avoid repeating the mistake I made with Marghetta.

As an extra precaution, I decorated each case with a ribbon of a different color to avoid any mix-ups. After all, it wouldn't do to give a ring meant for Louise to the Mage Duchess instead—it would be a design that didn't suit her age.

There’s no chance of getting them mixed up now.

Whether by chance or fate, the four people I intended to give the rings to each had a distinct color associated with them.

White, pink, yellow, and red. The last one referred to her eye color rather than her hair, but that didn’t really matter. It was fine as long as there were no duplicates.

Let's start with the white one.

I tucked the case with the white ribbon into a different pocket.

Initially, I planned to just buy the rings and head straight back, but my plans changed once they were in my hands. Holding onto a gift meant for someone special and delaying giving it felt wrong.

“Still, as His Highness said, there's the New Year's Ball. I guess I'll have to wait for that day."

Moreover, remembering the Mage Duchess’s words made me feel even more urgent.

Though I had forgiven the Mage Duchess last time, I hadn’t formally responded to her confession. She was likely hoping for an answer by the New Year’s Ball. She was probably expecting me to give my answer during that event.

Of course, I had no intention of doing so. There was nothing more satisfying than defying someone’s expectations.

Strike first to take the lead.

I then remembered the Wise Duchess’s advice.

Although it earned me a reputation for being ruthless, I couldn’t deny its effectiveness. To wrest control from someone like the Mage Duchess, I needed to make a strong impact.

Last time, I shook her up by using her real name. This time, I was planning to throw her off with an unexpected response and a gift at an unexpected moment.

Talking about this makes me seem like a manipulative person, but the Mage Duchess will honestly enjoy it too—so it was a win-win.

Anyway, that was the plan.

***I haven’t been able to focus on work for several days now.

My eyes kept drifting to the calendar, and my hand, instead of holding a pen, was clutching the comb that baby gave me.

It’s almost time.

Baby would be arriving soon.

My heart pounded. I knew the academy schedule by heart. The closing ceremony was held a few days ago, so baby should be in the capital by now.

Even if something delayed him, he would surely show up at the New Year’s Ball. That was when I’d finally get to see him.

"See you next time, Beatrix."

"Hnnng…!"

My hands flew to my face as I was overwhelmed by the mix of embarrassment, anticipation, and a fluttery feeling.

Since that day, I had imagined his voice hundreds, maybe thousands, of times. Just thinking of it again made my face flush.

I never realized how much joy could come from simply having your name called. Not in the formal way like ‘Beatrix Catoban of Servette’ during official events, but in the warm, affectionate way only close friends used. That was how he said it.

"See you next time, Beatrix."

His voice echoed in my mind again, and I could feel my ears practically twitching with excitement.

However, part of me felt a little disappointed. If only he’d called me by my name and spoken informally, it would have brought us even closer. Even if I tried to run away, wouldn’t it have been nice if he grabbed my wrist and pulled me into an embrace—

No, stop.

I shook my head, trying to clear away the daydream. I was already plenty happy; expecting more would just be greedy.

There was no rush. I had decades ahead to hear him say my name and share affection.

"...You said it takes about 40 years to see the effects of this, right? We still have plenty of time. Let's think about it together until then."

Those words meant that he would definitely be with me for a long time.

Baby might not have formally accepted my confession yet, but it was practically the same thing—

Knock, knock—

I frowned in irritation as the sound interrupted my happy thoughts.

"The Prosecutors’ Office’s Executive Manager is here to see you, Your Grace."

However, my annoyance quickly faded at my secretary’s announcement.

Thinking about baby, and then having him show up suddenly—didn’t this feel like we were connected somehow?

"L-let him in."

I stammered in my excitement.

How embarrassing. I hope baby didn’t think I was someone who couldn’t even speak properly.