“You’ve nailed it!” Carlo’s voice boomed through the workshop of the Green Tower.
“Yay!” Despite being an adult already, Dahlia jumped up and down in celebration, a habit that she’d never gotten out of since she was a little girl; her father couldn’t help but smile. What she was so happy about was the miniature freezer on the workbench, which Carlo had just conducted a quality inspection on. “This makes me a proper magical toolmaker now, right, father?”
“A proper miniature freezer maker, sure. But you’ve still got lots to learn about working with ice crystals.” Compared to water crystals, the ice variety was harder to utilize in magical tools, as it was easy to configure the output to be too strong. The magical circuitry involved was tricky too—too fine or too little and the output would cut out; too thick and it’d run the crystal too strong and burn through it too quickly, making it uneconomical to operate. Anyone working with ice crystal circuitry was bound to walk the path of trial and error, and every magical tool had its own sweet spot. The miniature freezer was no exception. Its bottom and four sides required very precise circuitry to circulate the cooled air, and its lid and body required kraken tape to keep the heat out and insulate the contents. It might have sounded simple, but there were no corners that could be cut. Carlo squinted at the kraken tape wrapped around the lid.
“I’ve gotten better at sticking on kraken tape, haven’t I, father?”
Gotten better? Hell, she’s about to surpass me. “That you have.” He tried his damnedest to not show his dread as he considered doing some practice before bed tonight. There was no way he would allow her to overtake him yet; this was a matter of his pride as her father and her master. “All right, now get changed so we can go commemorate your success.”
“Huh? Where are we going?” Her eyes grew wide when he responded with the name of a somewhat well-known upscale restaurant in the Central District. “Can we really just walk in like that?” she asked.
“Of course. I’m going to get changed too.” He wasn’t about to tell her that he’d made a reservation three days prior already, as he had known she wouldn’t need a second chance to perfect the freezer—that was how good she’d become.
A carriage took them to the royal capital’s Central District. The restaurant was slightly dated, but its popularity and quality had never declined, so it cost extra coin to reserve a table. The father and daughter entered their private room on the second floor, where they toasted with a glass of red wine each. Not long afterward, courses were brought in one by one: a colorful frittata with fish and finely chopped vegetables, a small pizza with ham and marbled cheese cut into diamond shapes melted on top, and seafood salad—swanky dishes that typically appealed to women. Dahlia’s eyes sparkled, and she truly savored every bite. Then, the star of tonight’s dinner and the restaurant’s signature, the roast beef, was brought in. The slices of meat had been twirled into the shape of roses, and the large white plate had been decorated in detail—painted, even—with drizzles of red wine reduction. Its beauty reminded Carlo of something; he found his hand had stopped. He decided to wash the memory away with the contents of his glass.
Across from him was his daughter, who had just begun to bite into the first slice of the roast beef. “It’s amazing! I’ll definitely never forget this day.” A beaming face accompanied those words, which were so terribly alike to those his late wife had once said.
Teresa had been the eldest daughter of an earl, yet she had wished to spend the rest of her life with a commoner like Carlo. Unfortunately, it had not been a marriage that her house, the Lambertis, had celebrated. She had chosen her own husband and left the matter of succession to her younger sister, so everything had worked out. Hell, his father-in-law had even bluntly said not to give Teresa back. His mother-in-law, though, had begged Carlo to take care of her daughter and had even slipped him a letter containing instructions on how to reach them in case anything should happen. She had not cried that day, but her eyes had been red. She had apologized for not sending a dowry with their daughter, but he didn’t need a single copper from them—all Carlo had needed was Teresa.
So it was that Teresa, along with furniture that her mother had bidden her bring, had arrived at the Green Tower with her maid Sofia. Sofia had originally been Teresa’s wet nurse, and it was thanks to her that someone with a noble background like Teresa could make do in a place like the Tower.
Teresa had fallen ill when she was with her parents, but in her new home, she slowly recovered. A month later, the physician had said that there was no longer anything to worry about; the three of them toasted with red wine that night. Sofia had found it endearing that this was the couple’s first time drinking together, but after the fourth bottle, she had reprimanded Carlo.
Teresa was a mage, but she was a woman who knew much about magical tools too. Before her marriage, she had frequented Professor Lina’s laboratory to get her advice on magical tools that could be employed in her family’s domain. However, because the earldom had already been passed down, Teresa’s father had told her not to get involved anymore. Carlo felt sorry for her, but what could he have done? It was an internal affair of the Lamberti family.
Time went by as Carlo endeavored to provide a comfortable life for his wife and Teresa learned to do housework and assist her husband. Then, one day, Sofia brought him a letter emblazoned with the Lamberti coat of arms; the sender was his father-in-law. “A letter for you, Mr. Carlo.”
If it should say to return Teresa, he’d decline without giving it a second thought. And so he forwent a letter opener and tore open the envelope. Addressed to “The skilled magical toolmaker Carlo Rossetti,” it asked in a very dignified tone whether he would be willing to be adopted into a noble family that was a relative of the Lambertis and whether he needed any financial assistance for his research. The last line read, “Praying that you and your family are in good health” in slightly larger text. What happened to not caring about your daughter? Carlo supposed the earl’s rejection had been just for show. “Damn nobles.” With the letter in hand, he went up to the rooftop, where his wife was hanging laundry; Teresa laughed until there were tears in her eyes.
By the time the season had passed, Carlo began to wonder if there wasn’t something he could do for Teresa, who couldn’t go anywhere too bustling, to celebrate their marriage. The problem was that he knew very little about how to be a gentleman to a lady, so he sought advice from his good friend Dominic, the scrivener.
He’d arranged for a meal to be delivered from a well-known restaurant in the Central District. By the time the food arrived, it was no longer as hot as it would optimally be, but it was a proper full-course dinner. There was no waitstaff at the Green Tower, so the dining table was covered in plates. Across from Carlo sat Teresa, wearing a white dress that she’d bought since moving here.