When the three sisters had finally finished selecting their pieces, Ulrich turned his attention back to the jeweler.

"Shall I have them boxed up immediately, My Lord?" The man asked, bowing with an obliging smile.

"No. I want them custom-made, forged entirely anew to fit them precisely," Ulrich replied, handing the man a rolled parchment detailing his specifications.

The jeweler unrolled the parchment, reading over the requirements. He nodded, a chuckle escaping him. "I see," he said. "Of course. However, such extensive custom work will incur a substantial additional cost."

"That is not a problem."

At Ulrich’s gesture, one of the armored knights standing watch behind him stepped forward. The knight presented two iron-bound cases and threw open the lids one by one, revealing row upon row of gleaming, tightly packed gold coins.

"If you find you need more, you will inform me in advance," Ulrich said.

"I believe this is more than necessary, My Lord," the jeweler replied breathlessly, placing a hand respectfully over his heart.

"Then ensure they are ready within a month," Ulrich said.

"They shall be," the jeweler promised, bowing deeply. "Would you need anything else while you are here, My Lord?"

Ulrich paused, looking thoughtfully around the sparkling boutique. Since they were traveling to the capital, gifts were a necessity. Arriving empty-handed was an insult impossible to overlook, and knowing the King’s annoying nature, Ulrich preferred to be prepared for every eventuality.

"The Royal Princess," Ulrich started, looking slightly out of his element. "She will require gifts."

The jeweler chuckled warmly at Ulrich’s awkward phrasing. It was obvious that Ulrich was completely lost regarding what to offer. Camellia was royalty, wealthy, and capable of obtaining anything she desired. Ulrich doubted whether presenting her with standard jewelry would mean anything at all.

"I assume you are considering having the young ladies present the gifts to the Princess?" The jeweler guessed.

Ulrich nodded. "I suspect ordinary jewels would be meaningless to her."

"That depends entirely on the craftsmanship and rarity, My Lord," the jeweler said, before turning to the three girls. "Might you ladies have any ideas of what to offer Her Highness?"

"Um..." Esther furrowed her brow in deep thought, unable to see what kind of worldly object could enchant a literal royal Princess.

"Maybe something she’s never received before?" Hermione suggested, crossing her arms.

"Like what?" Esther asked.

"Well..." Hermione faltered, unable to come up with a single example.

"We could show her Witchcraft," Airam muttered softly, a thoughtful glint in her eye.

"So you can get yourself executed?" Ulrich snapped, his voice turning instantly cold at her absurd proposition.

Airam narrowed her eyes, glaring at him. "She has probably never seen Witchcraft before. We can simply show her."

"There is a very good reason she has never seen it. Witches in the capital are executed on the spot. Unless you wish to see your sister’s head mounted on an iron spike, think of something else," Ulrich reprimanded sharply.

"Then I don’t want to give her anything at all," Airam retorted. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, suddenly annoyed by his harsh rebuke. Though underneath the sting of his scolding, perhaps he was upset only because he was concerned she might actually attempt something so reckless inside the royal castle.

Sensing the sudden tension, the jeweler quickly cleared his throat. "Perhaps artifacts might interest the Royal Princess, My Lord?" He proposed.

Ulrich gave a short nod. He had considered artifacts as well, but he wondered if such obscure items would truly appeal to Camellia. He would much rather the sisters pick out a meaningful gift themselves, rather than relying on him to buy something soulless.

"Think about it. And decide quickly," Ulrich told the sisters, bringing the discussion to a close. "We will acquire it later once you have an idea."

With a final, curt nod to the jeweler, Ulrich turned on his heel and escorted the three sisters out into the city streets.

There was only one destination left on Ulrich’s itinerary. Since all the necessary preparations for the sisters had been completed, this final stop was for his own benefit.

As they walked down the bustling street, Ulrich suddenly froze mid-step. The abrupt halt caused Hendrick and the sisters to stumble slightly, exchanging confused glances as they wondered what had caused him to stop.

Ulrich stood perfectly still. Slowly, he shifted his gaze over his shoulder, scanning past the dense crowd of commoners who were still staring and waving in awe at the noble procession. But Ulrich wasn’t looking at the people in the street. His eyes were fixed far higher, locked onto the empty shadows of an angled rooftop overlooking the thoroughfare.

There was no one there.

If he had sensed something, he gave no further indication. Turning back around, he resumed his brisk pace as though nothing had happened.

Their next destination was located over two miles away, yet Ulrich led them on foot regardless. Under normal circumstances, Hermione would have certainly complained about the severe discomfort of the long trek, especially considering it was her very first time wearing such a heavy gown. But after witnessing the fortune Ulrich had just spent to spoil them, the words died in her throat. She simply didn’t dare to complain about sore feet.

Eventually, Ulrich stopped before a peculiar storefront. Compared to the opulent, glittering boutiques they had just visited, its exterior looked pretty much ordinary, almost bland. Raising their gazes to the wooden sign swinging above the door, the sisters realized it was an armory.

Ulrich pushed the wooden door open and stepped inside without a moment’s hesitation. The sisters naturally trailed in after him.

Pausing, Ulrich threw a sideways glance at them. He had fully intended to order them to wait outside, as a weapons shop was hardly a suitable environment for three young noblewomen in silk gowns. But they were already inside, and Airam had already wandered off. She was standing before a reinforced glass display case, her dark eyes gleaming with intense interest as she scanned an array of wicked-looking daggers and throwing knives.

Deciding it was easier to simply let them be, Ulrich walked toward the wooden counter where the store owner stood.

The middle-aged man had looked rather bored moments prior, but the instant he recognized Ulrich, a wide, obsequious smile split his face.

"My Lord, your timing is perfect. We received your order from the forge only moments ago. Please, wait just a moment," the owner said, hastily retreating through a door in the back.

Ulrich stood in silence, waiting patiently.

"Wow... look at this, Airam. I’ve never seen weapons that glow like this before," Hermione breathed, her face pressed near a glass case. Though she greatly preferred the study of magic over the brutality of steel weaponry, the faint, almost glow etched into the blades had certainly captured her fascination.

Even Esther, who harbored an intense dislike for violence of any kind, was drawn to the displays. "They must cost a fortune..." She mumbled softly.

Despite the shop’s plain exterior, the interior was surprisingly luxurious, clearly catering to high-ranking knights and wealthy nobles who could afford enchanted steel.

A minute later, the store owner reappeared. He carefully carried a long object draped in white cloth. Setting it gently upon the wooden counter, the man pulled back the fabric, revealing a magnificent longsword resting inside a dark, richly polished brown leather scabbard.

Ulrich immediately picked it up. Gripping the hilt, he unsheathed the blade, the ring of steel instantly drawing the sisters’ attention.

Their eyes widened as they took in the flawless, silver blade. The metal was polished to such a careful finish that they could see their own reflections in its surface. There was no need to test the edge; simply looking at the masterfully tapered steel was enough to know it was razor-sharp and deadly.

It clearly met Ulrich’s exacting standards, as he gave a single, satisfied nod.

"If you should require anything else, please feel free to look around, Lord Rubenhart," the owner offered with a bow.

Ulrich briefly scanned the shop before his gaze naturally lowered, landing on Airam. She was still standing behind the glass display of daggers. She hadn’t spoken a single word or made any direct requests, but she was staring up at him with an intense, expectant look in her eyes.

Though her expression was almost impossible to read, Ulrich immediately understood what she wanted.

However, he was not going to purchase a brand-new, razor-sharp knife for a girl whose main hobby was hiding blades in her sleeves. It was dangerous, both for her and for anyone unlucky enough to cross her.

At the very least, he would not arm her until she proved she could properly control her unstable emotions.

Ignoring her silent demand, Ulrich turned toward the exit, only to stop as he reached Hendrick.

"Watch over them," Ulrich ordered, turning toward the door.

"My Lord?" Hendrick blinked, clearly confused by the sudden command.

"I will be back. Just stay here and keep an eye on them," Ulrich repeated, ensuring the knight fully understood his orders.

Hendrick gave a nod of obedience as Ulrich stepped back out into the bustling city streets alone.