'… I need to ensure my plan is executed to the maximum.' Sylvia thought as she followed quietly behind Azel through the bright midday streets of the capital.

The city was lively as always with merchants calling out prices, the smell of roasted nuts drifting through the breeze, and horse hooves clacking against stone but she paid none of it any mind. Her focus was entirely on the silver-haired young man in front of her.

He walked with relaxed steps, completely unaware that she was observing every detail: his posture, his choices, what he paid attention to, how he breathed.

She was studying him as thoroughly as one might study an ancient grimoire. After all… this was the man she had finally chosen.

And she needed him to believe that her choice was genuine.

'If I speak of the Succession Trials now,' she reasoned, 'he will assume my affection was merely a tool to enlist his cooperation. That must not happen. I require his sincerity. His trust and most importantly, his emotional investment.'

So she would tell him later… at the latest possible moment so it would appear natural. Accidental even, as if she herself had forgotten until it became relevant.

'Now… what were we doing? Ah yes…'

She had come today to help him choose birthday gifts for Great Mage Stella Duvraine and Mynes Duvraine, their former professor from the Academy.

Not exactly what she had expected to do when inviting a man out, but she would not complain. If Azel wanted her company, even for something trivial like this, it was to her advantage.

"Shouldn't we be searching for a very expensive gift?" Sylvia asked at last, her voice elegantly soft. "It is tradition that gifts to high nobles are extravagant. Otherwise, they are… poorly received."

'Unless…' she thought, 'he lacks the funds for such things?'

If that were the case, then she could finance everything for him today. It would be the perfect opportunity to build attachment.

But Azel shook his head.

"Yes, expensive gifts are common," he said as he turned down a side street lined with craft shops, "but because they're common, they don't stand out. How do we know a Great Mage doesn't already have dozens of the same thing?"

This… was not entirely wrong, Sylvia admitted with a thoughtful tilt of her chin.

He continued, "I'd rather give something unique. Something handmade. It means more."

'I see… so that is his reasoning.'

At first she thought him foolish… comically so but now that she considered it, she could not refute the logic.

As a princess, she herself received countless luxurious items on her birthdays: enchanted tiaras, gold jewelry, magically preserved roses, dresses embroidered with mana thread…

And where were they now? Most were untouched… stored away and even forgotten.

What had ever made her heart truly flutter?

None of them.

She blinked. '… Was I the foolish one instead?'

"Exactly," Azel added, stepping into a bead shop known for its artisan supplies. "I'm planning to give her a handmade hairpin."

Sylvia froze mid-step.

"A… hairpin?" she repeated. "A handmade hairpin? For a Grand Mage?"

Her tone slipped… just a little. It was disbelief mixed with horrified confusion.

'Is this man insane? Does he truly believe this is adequate? Does he intend to give a Grand Mage an amateur craft project? What if the guests laugh? What if she throws it away? Does he understand the concept of prestige at all—?!'

But Azel merely smiled lightly.

"What I believe," he said, "is that a real gift should come from the heart. Not a store shelf."

Sylvia opened her mouth… and closed it.

She wanted to argue. She really did. But she could not deny that if she were the one receiving something handmade, she would… feel something special.

Azel walked forward, inquiring at the counter.

Sylvia followed, still slightly dazed.

The receptionist… a woman in her thirties lit up as soon as Azel explained what he needed.

"Oh, materials for a hairpin? For a special person?" she cooed, eyes glinting knowingly.

Then she looked at Sylvia, instantly mesmerized by the elf's perfect features. "Ahh~ a hairpin would suit this young lady beautifully!"

The receptionist grinned and dragged them toward one of the displays.

"A Starbloom hairpin is traditionally given to someone you like," she said in a teasing whisper. Then she subtly motioned toward Sylvia. "So be sure to choose wisely."

Azel's eye twitched.

'Do I look like someone who is romantically interested in Stella…?' he wondered. 'Well… I do like her. But not like that. She's Mynes's mom… this is getting weird.'

Sylvia observed his expression with a small inward sigh.

'He is… uncomplicated. Far too honest and far too easy to fluster.'

The shelves were lined with items: simple silver stems, decorative clasps, beads, charms, the occasional enchanted metal fragment.

Nothing high-end and nothing that screamed nobility too.

'He really knows nothing about nobles, huh?' Sylvia thought with weary resignation.

But then… she also felt a strange warmth.

He was earnest and not only was it frustrating… It was also oddly charming as well.

Azel suddenly turned to her.

"Darling—"

She almost choked. Darling? Already? He had mentioned it at the restaurant but she didn't think they would start right away.

"—why did you even come along if you didn't plan to help?" he continued casually, clearly unaware of the storm he had just unleashed inside her mind.

Her ears turned pink.

"S-Sir Azel… I came because you requested my help. I simply thought nobles preferred expensive gifts…" She cleared her throat, forcing her composure back. "But if you wish for something handcrafted, I shall assist."

He pointed to the shelves.

"Help me choose the highest-quality materials. Elves have good eyes for this kind of stuff, right? Also pick a design you'd like."

Sylvia stared at him.

Then at the poor-quality materials then back at him.

'He truly… He truly intends to give a Grand Mage a hairpin of this level…? Spirits preserve us…'

Yet despite her internal despair, she began selecting the best pieces… a smooth silver base, a set of deep violet beads, a thin ornamental chain.

She worked with silent precision, gracefully handling each item, her fingers gliding lightly as if she were sculpting the very air.

Azel watched her with an appreciative smile.

She pretended not to notice.

'He is dangerous,' she thought. 'Somehow… I feel oddly guilty about manipulating him.'

She shoveled that emotion aside.

'There should be no doubt. I must win the Trials. And he is the correct choice.'

She handed him the materials.

"These are the best available," she said with formal calm. "Though not of noble quality… they are structurally sound."

"Perfect," Azel said cheerfully.

Sylvia exhaled quietly.

'Yes… He knows nothing about nobles.'

But as she watched him examine each chosen item with genuine care, excitement even… she felt something tug at her chest.

'… Unique… handmade… from the heart…'

She looked away.

'It seems Grand Mage Stella is going to receive a far more sentimental gift than any noble would expect.'

Azel, completely unaware of her inner conflict, smiled warmly.

"Thanks, Sylvia. Really. I'm glad you came."

She froze.

…

"Can you tell me why we're here at a licensing stand?" Sylvia asked about an hour later, her tone polite but edged with confusion.

She had tolerated following him into a regular bead shop like some commoner's lover, tolerated selecting materials far beneath noble standards, tolerated watching him happily purchase items that looked like they were worth less than her shoelaces…

But now? Now they stood before an empire licensing booth.

An actual licensing booth.

Azel was getting… a license.

For something.

"That's simple," Azel replied, completely unbothered by the absurdity of the situation.

In fact, he looked rather energized.

They stood before the wooden counter where a middle-aged man scribbled on a book. Citizens had originally formed a neat line, but the moment they noticed the son of the Sword Saint and an elven royal princess, the crowd parted like the sea itself.

People pressed against the walls, bowing their heads, pretending they were invisible.

Sylvia sighed inwardly. 'Humans are truly excessive…'

Azel stepped forward casually.

The man behind the counter stiffened like a drawn bowstring. "Y-Yes, my lord… how can I assist you?"

Azel tapped his fingers on the desk. "I have a question."

"Yes, sir!" The clerk straightened even more, as if ready to receive divine revelation.

"Is there anything such as a looting license?" Azel asked. "You know… a permit to legally claim battlefield spoils as long as they're in your possession."

Sylvia's left eye twitched.

'Looting license…? He dragged me across the market for a looting license…?'

The clerk froze, flipped desperately through an old, dust-covered ledger, and went pale.

"Y-Yes, sir… It exists. It is an old document, rarely used now, but… very much still available."

"Perfect." Azel nodded. "Create one for a woman named Mynes Duvraine."

Sylvia blinked slowly.

'He's… gifting her a looting license? This is part of her birthday gift…?'

The clerk flipped more pages, then stopped. "Lady Mynes Duvraine already had one… but it expired two years ago."

Azel stared blankly. "Ah? She hasn't renewed it yet? How much is the renewal fee?"

The clerk swallowed. "It costs… ten gold coins, my lord. Reissuing it is expensive because it grants protection to the holder when looting spoils. It ensures the royal court cannot prosecute them. To prevent misuse, only higher nobles are even allowed to obtain it."

Azel's face said 'wow, nobles are insane' but he didn't voice it.

Instead, ten gold coins appeared on the counter in a neat pile.

The clerk nearly fainted.

"I'd like to receive the slip myself since I'm paying," Azel added with calm politeness.

"O-Of course, my lord… immediately!"

The magical inscription process began… the clerk extracted glowing slips from a chest, pressed a mana stamp that captured essential information, copied legal formulas, infused seal-marks… all while sweating buckets under Sylvia's observing gaze.

Finally, the glowing paper appeared on the counter.

Azel took the completed looting permit and flicked it into his inventory.

Only then did Sylvia exhale.

"What was 'simple' about this?" she asked as they walked away from the booth.

The crowd, now seeing them depart, flooded back to the line like starving animals returning to food. "You obtained a very peculiar license… for Professor Mynes?"

"It's not just any license," Azel said, crossing his arms. "And it's just a small part of her gift. I already have another idea."

He then looked at Sylvia, scanning her expression.

"Anyway… want to come back to my apartment and help me make the hairpin? I'm planning on making it a bit special."

Sylvia paused mid-step.

Her mind, normally ordered and logical, skipped.

'Going to his apartment…? Alone? To craft a sentimental gift…? With him? Spirits above… this man is unbelievably forward without realizing it.'

But she schooled her face back into composure.

Her thoughts ran swiftly.

'If I go, the chances of emotional intimacy increase. I can observe him more, understand how he thinks, reinforce his attachment to me. However… the more time I spend with him, the more likely I am to be dragged into his bizarre human antics. A looting license as a birthday present…? What next? A sword forged out of kitchen utensils…?'

She inhaled softly.

"I… I have an errand to run," she said at last, lowering her gaze in a practiced display of gentle modesty.

Then she stepped close.

Close enough that Azel blinked.

She rose on her toes, pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, and immediately flinched from her own boldness.

Her ears went scarlet.

Without another word, she turned and ran… a graceful elven sprint, but undeniably fast.

Azel stood there blinking at her fleeing form.

"…She sure is shy," he murmured with a hand rubbing the back of his head.

Gwendolyn appeared beside him, floating lazily.

"If you think that's shy, you should see an elf on her actual wedding night," she muttered. "They probably faint when the groom takes off his shirt."

Azel ignored her, because honestly, she might be right.

"Well whatever. You're here with me, let's go make a perfect gift." He said.

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