"No way... Over two hundred gold coins, you say?!"
The prize money I had won at the military competition just the day before was five hundred coins. Hearing that nearly half of it would vanish for a single arm, I froze, staring at the mechanical prosthetic arm on the table.
No matter how many times I looked at it, it was just a metal arm! Sure, it was amazing that the fingers could move, but even so, two hundred coins was highway robbery. After fighting so desperately yesterday to protect those five hundred coins, there was no way in hell I was letting nearly half of it get snatched away in a single day!
"Why does it cost that much...? I get that it's different from a regular prosthetic, but isn't that way too steep?!"
Accustomed to such reactions, the elderly craftsman turned the prosthetic on the desk toward me to show the inner workings. Countless layers of tiny gears and delicate metal fittings were assembled together, leaving me with absolutely no clue how any of it worked.
"A mechanical prosthetic arm is completely different from one that merely mimics the shape of a limb... First, a physician must examine the remaining nerves in the lost arm, and a custom connector must be crafted to fit that individual. Because the condition of the remaining nerves varies from person to person, no two can ever be made the same. In order for all five fingers to move individually, and for the wrist to move according to the wearer's will, all the internal mechanisms must be tailored exclusively for them..."
"...You even need a physician?"
"Yes... It is not something that can be made simply by measuring the thickness of an arm. If the contact point with the nerves is even slightly misaligned, it will not move as intended, and conversely, if it presses too hard, simply wearing it becomes an ordeal. Therefore, a physician examines, a craftsman builds, and the physician verifies again... It is a continuous cycle of adjustments."
As he explained, the craftsman demonstrated by moving the five fingers one by one. The metal fingers bent in sequence, finally forming a fist. In terms of appearance alone, the movement was hardly any different from a real hand, yet all of this was apparently accomplished using nothing but intricate metal fittings.
I see... It's not like Elsa could just strap this on and start hammering iron normally with both hands the very next day, huh...? Still, if she could reach the point where she could grip tools, what she could accomplish would increase drastically compared to having just one arm.
"...I understand that it's an enormous pain. But does that alone justify two hundred coins?"
"There is one more thing... The physicians and craftsmen who can handle this technology are exceedingly few even within the kingdom. Furthermore, the parts cannot be forged in an ordinary smithy. Even creating a single gear of this size with uniform shape requires commissioning a master craftsman."
Hearing all that, I pretty much understood why the price was so steep. Even so, my brain simply refused to accept the figure of two hundred gold coins.
"...In the first place, who came up with something like this?"
"...It is said to have begun long ago with a single foreigner who washed ashore in this kingdom... though apparently no one even knew which country he hailed from. He left behind writings proposing that when a person moves an arm, commands travel through the inside of the body, and that if those commands could be transmitted to an artificial limb, perhaps a lost hand could be moved once more."
"He didn't make it himself?"
"It seems it was impossible with the medical and machining techniques of that era. Nor did that foreigner know all the minute mechanisms himself, so it is said... However, he left behind an unprecedented concept and several insights regarding nerves. The kingdom's physicians and craftsmen researched it across generations, gradually refining it from moving a single finger, until it finally became the mechanical prosthetic arm of today."
"...What a bizarre guy."
A foreigner who came from a distant land and possessed knowledge no one else had, huh...? It piqued my curiosity a bit, but right now, the two hundred coins before my eyes took priority over some man from the past.
It was a technique built up by generations of craftsmen and physicians, and completely customized for the individual to boot. I understood why it was expensive, and it didn't seem like the craftsman was ripping me off just because I was a noble... In fact, the more I listened, the more I began to wonder how he could even make it for as little as two hundred coins.
However—understanding the reason and willingly coughing up two hundred gold coins were two entirely different matters.
"...Clarice, Serena."
I pulled two gold coins from my purse and tossed one to each of them. Clarice caught hers in a fluster, then stared wide-eyed at her palm.
"Wait, isn't this a gold coin?! What are you doing, handing us something like this?!"
"Go have some fun with that for a while! I'll meet up with you once the negotiations are done."
"Have some fun, you say...? A single gold coin can't possibly be spent in just one day! Why are you suddenly handing them out one by one when you were having a fit over two hundred coins just moments ago?!"
"Don't lump two hundred coins and one coin together! Keep whatever's left over for yourself! I am about to fight a righteous battle!"
Clarice was dumbfounded, while Serena let out a soft "Whoa..." as she held her gold coin up to the light. Turning my back on the two of them, I looked at the craftsman once more. For some reason, he tensed up slightly, but what was about to begin wasn't a battle of swords.
Two hundred gold coins...! As if I'd just pay that outright! If I could save even a single coin, I could buy liquor, I could buy meat! Regardless of whether the price was justified, it was the lord's prerogative to at least try negotiating!
"This is a battle to reclaim as many gold coins as possible! Just you wait, here I come!!"
"...Aren't you already right in front of him?"
Clarice's voice reached me from behind, but that was none of my concern right now! The Military Tournament might be over, but my battle wasn't finished yet! My opponent this time wasn't the previous year's champion or three hundred soldiers—it was two hundred gold coins...!
Stepping out of the workshop, Clarice let out a deep sigh as she looked at the gold coin remaining in her hand.
"...Lately, I feel like Vain's sense of money has been getting warped... He looked like he was about to die over two hundred coins, yet he hands us a coin each without batting an eye. I'm pretty sure he used to agonize even over a single gold coin before..."
Beside her, Serena didn't care in the slightest. Although the Founding Festival itself was over, many visitors from the provinces still lingered in the royal capital, so stalls lined the street again today, wafting the aroma of grilled meat and the sweet fragrance of confections. Serena's blue eyes had been darting busily among the stalls for a while now.
"Clarice! Clarice!"
"What is it? What's wrong?"
"Food! Food!"
Though her voice was as flat as ever, what she wanted to do was glaringly obvious.
"...You seem to be having fun, don't you? Well, since Vain went through the trouble of giving it to us, shall we get something to eat?"
Serena immediately bought a meat skewer, then headed straight for the baked sweets next to it. Accustomed to seeing her constantly scanning their surroundings from just behind Vain's shoulder or staying dead silent during meals, Clarice thought watching her peek into each stall and pick out what she wanted to eat made her look surprisingly age-appropriate.
"Isn't that your third one already?"
"All different."
"Meat is meat, though..."
"Tastes different."
Being answered with a straight face made Clarice chuckle despite herself. When Serena spotted yet another skewer, she picked up her pace slightly, prompting another near-laugh from Clarice. Vain might be shocked if he saw this, but since opportunities to be free from bodyguard duties were exceedingly rare, there was no harm in letting her eat whatever she liked for today.
As they wandered around several stalls, Clarice herself began to be drawn in by the sweet aroma of baked goods. Having been dragged around by Vain since morning—first to the newspaper publisher, then to the royal castle, and next to the prosthetic workshop—she was finally free. Just as she turned toward a stall thinking she might as well grab a bite of something herself, it happened.
"Well, what a surprise...! To think such a beautiful flower still remained in the royal capital even after the festival has ended!"
Hearing an unfamiliar man's voice, Clarice turned around.
Standing there was a man in his early twenties. Dressed in finely tailored clothes, his neatly styled hair fluttered in the breeze, and for some reason, he held a single red rose in one hand. His features were certainly quite handsome, but what caught the eye above all else was a smile that suggested the man didn't doubt his own good looks in the slightest. When his eyes met Clarice's, he drew the rose to his chest as if he had been waiting for this exact moment.
"Um... Do you need something from me?"
"Yes! I felt it would be terribly impolite to simply walk past upon seeing someone as beautiful as you! If you have the time, would you care to stroll through the royal capital with me? I know plenty of shops that would suit you."
Faced with words delivered without the slightest hesitation, Clarice momentarily forgot to respond. He didn't seem to be joking. On the contrary, he appeared to genuinely believe that anyone would naturally be delighted by his approach... Glancing to the side, Serena was merely observing the man while munching on her meat skewer, showing no intention of tossing a lifeline.
"...I am sorry, but I am in the middle of work."
The man looked back and forth between the package of sweets in Clarice's hand and Serena, who was continuing her snack tour beside her, before chuckling pleasantly.
"Work, is that true? You seem to be enjoying the stalls quite thoroughly, though..."
"...We are merely taking a short break right now."
It was a clumsy excuse. In reality, Vain had handed them a gold coin and told them to go have fun, so looking at this exact moment, they were entirely at leisure.
"Hmm... Serious even during your breaks, are you...? I like you all the more! But there is no need to be so guarded! I simply wish to walk around the royal capital and share a meal with you."
Taking her response as bashfulness rather than a rejection, the man brought the rose to the tip of his nose with a satisfied air. Apparently, this gesture was quite the stylish signature in his own mind.
"...I see."
"Oh?...Could it be that you do not know who I am?"
"I am afraid not..."
At that, rather than being surprised, the man ran a hand through his bangs with an almost delighted look.
"How rare! I never thought I would meet a lady in the royal capital who did not know of me! In that case, you can get to know me starting with a clean slate! That is truly not bad at all."
Being able to speak with such sheer confidence was impressive in its own way. As Clarice hesitated over how to reply, the man offered a theatrical little bow while holding the rose.
"Allow me to introduce myself properly...! Kieza Perkin! Of House Perkin."
The moment she heard that name, Clarice's expression shifted slightly. He was the son of House Perkin, who had just been clashing with House Razgrim in the Military Tournament until recently. No matter how frivolous the man before her seemed, she could not afford to be disrespectful.
"...You are from House Perkin. Please forgive my ignorance and lack of manners."
"No, no! There is no need to be so formal! Rather, the way you spoke earlier suits you much better."
Kieza smiled as he said that, twirling the rose lightly between his fingertips. Face, clothes, gestures—in his own mind, everything was probably flawless.
Maintaining her smile, Clarice let out a small breath inward.
A terribly troublesome person has called out to me...!
What's more, Kieza himself was not the least bit aware of it.
"That being said, I am truly sorry... but even though you have gone to the trouble of inviting me, I have no intention of accompanying you."
When Clarice turned him down flatly, Kieza's eyes widened slightly. Apparently, he had genuinely not expected to be refused.
"...Well, this is a surprise! To think there is a woman who would decline my invitation."
"My apologies."
"No, there is no need to apologize! Having you force yourself to accompany me just because I belong to a marquis house would hardly look good on my part either, after all."
Laughing as he said this, Kieza showed no sign of displeasure. Furthermore, he displayed no particular interest in the fact that Clarice's demeanor had shifted upon him mentioning the marquis house's name.
"If you are unwilling, then I shall give up on inviting you to a meal... A man who forces himself upon an unwilling woman is hardly beautiful, after all."
"...Beauty applies to that, too, I see."
"Of course! It would hardly do if only my face were beautiful, wouldn't it?"
"To be able to state that so confidently about yourself is... slightly enviable, isn't it?"
When she gave an exasperated reply, Kieza rested the rose against his chest with a satisfied look, perhaps taking it as a compliment.
Even though she had declined his invitation to a meal, he didn't get angry, nor did he brandish the authority of a marquis house... He was an eccentric man, but at the very least, he didn't seem to be a repulsive noble—at that point, Clarice lowered her guard just a little.
Though, there was no sign whatsoever that Kieza intended to leave.
"By the way, are you usually not around these parts? If someone as striking as you were in the royal capital, it seems I ought to have caught sight of you at least once..."
Apparently, he had only given up on the invitation to a meal, not on the conversation itself.
Clarice let out a small sigh.
...He really is a troublesome person after all.