The more he heard from Elis, the more Marquis Hamilton felt a powerful urge to bury his face in his hands. The fact that she had become acquainted with five of the Seven Princesses was a momentous development on its own, one that would undoubtedly ripple through their future political standing.
Yet even that paled in comparison to the far greater dilemma: Kaito’s casual request to attend a tea party hosted by Elis.
"This is far beyond our personal judgment," the Marquis sighed. "We will need to clear this with the Empress herself. Even assuming we go through with it, the guest list will be an absolute nightmare."
"I agree. Kaito-sama’s influence is on an entirely different scale," Elis replied. "There isn't a noble in the land who isn't starving for an introduction. Until now, the Phantasm King's warnings and the threats from the otherworld god, Eden, have made it a strict taboo for the aristocracy to approach him. But if Kaito-sama is the one requesting the invitation, the entire situation is inverted."
Kaito was a figure of legend among the high-born. The only reason the masses of nobility had not swarmed him was due to the chilling warning letters sent to every house by the Phantasm King—the unseen monarch who controlled the world's information from the shadows. Added to that was the terror inspired by the goddess Eden, who had personally delivered 'warnings' to every noble family in the Human Realm. Bound by the dictates of these two absolute powers, the nobles had been forced to maintain a respectful distance, no matter how much they craved his favor.
However, if word got out that Kaito was attending a party hosted by a noble house, the floodgates would burst.
"Father, I have a suggestion," Elis said. "If we move forward with the party, what if we restricted the attendance so that no heads of houses are allowed to join?"
"Hmm. I see your point. We frame it not as a formal event for the Hamilton House, but as your own private social circle. We limit the guests to your personal friends within our faction—only those we can trust. This signals to the world that the connection with Miyama Kaito-sama is personal, not political. It might be the only way. To further distance the house, we should host it at our mountain villa."
"Yes. I intend to narrow the guests down to a select few whom I judge are safe to introduce to him. In this matter, haste will only invite disaster. It is better to move with deliberate care."
As she watched the Marquis and Elis discuss the matter with such grave expressions, the Marchioness, who had been quietly contemplating the situation, offered her own thought.
"If it is possible, why not invite the Seven Princesses you met? Whether they will actually attend is another matter, but those with keen ears already know you met them in Symphonia. You could use that existing connection as a legitimate pretext for organizing the gathering."
"That is an excellent point," Elis agreed. "We cannot certain of their schedules, but it is certainly worth considering as a primary objective."
With the Marquis’s nod of approval, their strategy was set. This concluded the immediate crisis, and Elis turned her attention to the wrapped box Kaito had given her, placing it on the table.
"So, this is the gift from Miyama Kaito-sama..."
"Yes. He described it as a desktop clock. He mentioned it was made from the leftover materials of a personal commission he’d requested for himself. However, since it's an item associated with him, its value is already astronomical. Furthermore, it was apparently made by the same artisan who created the Nifty Cups. Woodwork may be different from pottery, but if Kaito-sama commissioned it, I expect the quality is superb."
Deciding to verify the gift then and there, Elis carefully peeled away the packaging and opened the exquisite wooden case. She peeked inside for a split second, then immediately snapped the lid shut in total silence.
A moment later, her face drained of color. She began to tremble, her thoughts racing as she tried to force a sense of denial upon herself.
I misread that. I definitely misread that. Please, please let my eyes be playing tricks on me. I just opened it at a bad angle. If I open it properly, then surely... surely...
Opening the box once more with a silent prayer, she found that the contents had, unfortunately, remained the same. Inside was a wooden clock adorned with such breathtaking detail that it transcended mere craftsmanship to become a masterpiece of fine art. Its appearance alone radiated a sense of overwhelming value, but Elis noticed something even more terrifying.
"Father..." she whispered, her voice shaking. "Right now, I am praying with all my heart that I am simply a fool. I want to believe my eyes are failing me, or that I lack the aesthetic sense to recognize what I'm seeing. What do you see?"
"That brilliance... it seems to pull you in despite its deep, dark hue. The material used for those clock hands... it's Midnight Crystal."
When the Marquis confirmed her fears with a pale face of his own, Elis looked up at the ceiling, feeling faint.
That’s a phantom gemstone! It only surfaces once a decade! It's the kind of thing you lock in a vault as a national treasure! And he used it for the clock hands?! Kaito-sama, you didn't give me the wrong box, did you? Please tell me this was just a mistake!
Kaito had provided the materials to Nebula with a casual air. Since the clock was meant for his own room, he had simply handed over various leftovers from his previous projects, including a hoard of rare gems like Midnight Crystals and Rainbow Diamonds. He had included excess wood from Lilliwood’s World Tree, a Black Magic Crystal from Tre to serve as the power source, and several high-quality scraps that Alice had tossed into the pile.
The result was a desktop clock crafted from two distinct types of World Tree wood, decorated with such precision that Lilia Albert had once remarked it belonged in a national gallery. Powered by the rare Black Magic Crystal, the piece was a functional Magic Tool that, thanks to Nebula's whimsy, even featured special magical displays at set intervals.