SOTBW - 222

The jeweler, wearing a magnifying eyepiece, carefully smoothed out the loop of an earring that needed to be delivered by the day after tomorrow. 

Lately, the Serith hadn’t been attacking the fortress, and peaceful nights had continued. Ironically, this peace had caused a drop in work for jewelers and blacksmiths alike, leaving everyone scrambling to maintain their sales.

Fortunately, this jeweler had recently made a good profit when a woman purchased an expensive dagger along with some Serith’s Eyes. The demand for Serith’s Eyes was steady, but the supply was perpetually low. As a result, selling them to merchants traveling to and from the royal castle could fetch quite a handsome price.

The jeweler held the sparkling earring up to the sunlight and inserted a sapphire into its center. The gem fit perfectly, as if it had always belonged there. 

Satisfied, the jeweler smiled and placed the pair of earrings into a velvet box. Just then, their eyes met with a customer entering the shop. It was the knight who had accompanied the woman who bought the dagger.

Before the jeweler could greet him, the man placed a money pouch on the desk. The jeweler flinched at the sight of the bulging pouch. The sound it made when set down seemed lighter than expected for it to be filled with coins.

Could he be here to repay the favor for that woman? Whatever the reason, it was good news for the jeweler. Removing their magnifying eyepiece, they greeted the man with a warm smile.

“How has the dagger you purchased been treating you?”

“I haven’t used it yet—it’s too precious.”

How could he possibly use it? If the blade were to chip or dull, it might bring him to tears. He intended to keep it as a lifelong treasure and vowed never to use it to cut anything—be it human, beast, or Serith.

Unaware of these thoughts, the jeweler simply smiled contentedly as the craftsman who had made the dagger.

“That dagger truly is a beautiful piece. But what brings you here today?”

“I’m looking to have a ring made.”

“Oh! Are you planning to propose to her? I heard she was going far away, but it seems her schedule has changed. How fortunate!”

Without knowing the man’s true intentions, the jeweler grinned widely and began showing him the rings displayed in the case.

“Do you know your partner’s finger size?”

“It’s the same thickness as my pinky.”

“Hmm, let me check the size. May I see your finger…?”

The jeweler put the magnifying eyepiece back on and measured the man’s finger. After confirming the ring size, they pointed to the rings in the middle of the display.

“These here will fit perfectly on her ring finger.”

The man scanned the rings with his strangely glowing, dark green eyes. Unfortunately, he had no eye for art or aesthetics, so he couldn’t tell which design was the most beautiful. Still, thinking about what might suit the woman made choosing easier.

As the man examined the displayed rings, his eyes narrowed slightly. He hesitated between two options: a ring with two thin golden loops holding a gem in place, and another where two teardrop-shaped gems were cradled like flower petals.

The jeweler understood his dilemma. Even for a knight guarding Noctis Fortress, buying two platinum rings would be a stretch, even if they saved their salary for an entire year.

Expecting the man to choose just one ring, the jeweler patiently waited for this life-changing decision. But suddenly, the man quickly tapped various spots on the display case.

“I’ll take everything you just pointed out.”

“…Pardon?”

The jeweler stared, dumbfounded, and repeated the question in disbelief.

The man gestured again at the items on the display: two platinum rings, two pairs of matching earrings, two necklaces that went with the earrings, a bracelet adorned with emerald droplets, and another bracelet of a different design.

Confused, the jeweler slowly retrieved each item the man had indicated and placed them on the counter. The man gazed at the two rings with a thoughtful expression, then broke into a dazzling smile, clearly pleased with his choice.

Watching that bright, gentle smile, the jeweler thought the man bore a resemblance to Maximón Elgort. But they were certain he couldn’t possibly be the infamous leader of the knights.

Pushing the jewelry toward the jeweler, the man spoke with unwavering certainty.

“I’d like to replace all the gemstones with Serith’s Eyes. Is that possible?”

“Possible, yes... but are you really planning to buy all of this?”

The jeweler was flustered, but the man paid no mind and opened the pouch he had placed on the display case. Inside were densely packed Serith’s Eyes, a deep emerald green that matched the man’s eyes perfectly. At a glance, there seemed to be at least thirty of them.

Though they were only slightly larger than coins, in the current situation, even these were a godsend. The jeweler quickly straightened up and put on an excited expression.

“If I set these Serith’s Eyes into all the jewelry you’ve chosen, will that work? Ah, but for the bracelets, these Serith’s Eyes might be too big...”

“Then cut them and set the pieces.”

At the man’s words, the jeweler felt a sense of déjà vu. Come to think of it, the woman customer from before had said something similar… The jeweler sighed briefly, wondering if this confirmed the two were lovers.

“Cutting Serith’s Eyes is…”

“Do as I say.”

The man furrowed his brow, clearly disliking any waste of time. Overwhelmed by the man’s imposing demeanor, the jeweler unconsciously closed their mouth. They knew they should try to persuade him otherwise, but feared what might happen if they pushed too far.

From years of running the jewelry shop, the jeweler had learned that with customers like this, it was best not to argue. Nodding obediently, the jeweler began counting the Serith’s Eyes in the pouch one by one. Each one was of excellent quality.

The thought of having to cut them made the jeweler want to cry, but thanks to these, they’d have enough to live on for a while.

“Would you like to sell the remaining Serith’s Eyes?”

“No. Use the rest to make other jewelry and send it to the Knights of Romsoa. Leave the selection of the pieces to you.”

“And how would you like to settle the payment? The cost of this commission alone will be astronomical.”

Instead of pulling out money, the man grabbed a checkbook from the corner of the display case.

“How much?”

“Ah, just a moment. Hmm, first, I’ll calculate the cost of the items you’ve chosen today. Adding everything together, including the gem replacement fees… phew, it exceeds four thousand lirangs. Are you sure this is alright?”

The jeweler asked hesitantly. The man, without changing his expression, wrote down the amount.

“You can have it ready by tomorrow, right?”

“Huh?”

The jeweler repeated the question in disbelief, their voice trembling. Displeased with the jeweler’s reaction, the man raised an eyebrow and tore off another check, adding more to the amount.

“I’ll pay an additional thousand lirangs.”

“...What?”

“Still not enough?”

“N-no, it’s definitely enough…”

“Good.”

The man put down the fountain pen and handed two checks to the jeweler. The jeweler stared blankly at the signature on the checks: Maximón Elgort. It clearly read “Maximón Elgort of the Knights of Romsoa.”

Thinking their eyes must be playing tricks due to old age, the jeweler stared at the name until it burned into their vision, but it was unmistakably Maximón’s name. Slowly growing pale, the jeweler lifted their head to look at the man.

With nothing left to discuss, the man turned and walked away without hesitation.

“Have the ring delivered to the Knights of Romsoa by noon tomorrow.”

As the man stepped out of the shop, he paused as if remembering something. Turning back to face the now ghostly pale jeweler, he spoke in a low, humorless tone:

“If the ring doesn’t arrive on time tomorrow, you’d better prepare yourself.”

Jingle. The bell on the shop door rang cheerfully. The jeweler stood frozen, holding the checks in their hand, and slowly closed their mouth.

It felt like they had just received a death sentence—but surely that was just their imagination. Swallowing hard to moisten their dry throat, the jeweler suddenly burst into a foolish laugh at the realization that they had just sold a wedding ring to that Maximón.

“They say he’s a terrifying cold-blooded man…”

The jeweler recalled the man’s cheerful smile as he chose the ring and couldn’t help but shake their head in disbelief.

“Rumors really can’t be trusted, after all.”

---

As soon as Maximón returned to the knights’ quarters, he immediately went looking for Najane. Fearing she might be taking a nap, he carefully muffled his footsteps as he entered her residence. To his surprise, he found her in the living room, scribbling something on a piece of paper.

Why was she sitting in the living room instead of staying in her much warmer bedroom? Was her room feeling suffocating? Perhaps he should build her a larger house before it was too late…

Lost in a thousand thoughts, he quietly approached Najane from behind. She was so absorbed in her writing that she didn’t even notice him entering.

Najane was seated diagonally on the sofa, the tip of the quill pen between her lips, her expression serious as she read over what she had written. The paper listed events from her life in chronological order: how she felt when she escaped her homeland, the circumstances surrounding it, the despair she felt wandering the back alleys of Noctis Fortress after realizing she was cursed…

As Maximón read the tiny script on the paper, he realized Najane was slowly reflecting on and organizing her life. Without a word, he gently took the paper from her hand.

Startled, Najane turned around to look at him. Maximón hesitated, his resolve softening as he imagined how difficult it must have been for her to write those words. Reluctantly, he placed the paper back on the table instead of tearing it up.

Najane set the quill back into the inkwell and looked at Maximón with an expression that asked when he had come in. Instead of answering, Maximón sat beside her and kissed her cheek.

“You’re wearing such thin clothes again…”

Maximón scolded her gently. Najane smirked and wrapped herself in a blanket, leaning naturally against him as she gazed at the blazing fireplace. She then told him about Amelia’s departure.

“Amelia has left Romsoa.”

“It seems she’s decided to become a priest.”

Maximón wasn’t particularly surprised. When Gwyneth had demanded Amelia, he already suspected the girl would inevitably choose the path of priesthood. If Maximón had refused to let her go, Amelia likely would have sent a letter directly to the Vatican.

Though a part of him was slightly irritated that Amelia, whom he disliked, had managed to survive and leave Romsoa safely, another part of him was relieved. He knew that if Amelia had died during Najane’s weakest period, Najane would have fallen into even deeper despair. 

If Amelia had perished at a time when Najane was already struggling… unwilling as he was to admit it, Najane would have completely let go of herself, overwhelmed by guilt for failing to protect Amelia.

Of course, that outcome was once exactly what Maximón had desired. But now, things were different. Maximón wanted Najane to spend her remaining days in peace and happiness.

He wished for her to live without any worries or burdens, doing only what she wanted, and even being able to relax without overly concerning herself about him—her lover.