Zion's words echoed in the shop, and the shopkeeper frowned before opening his mouth. "I have stopped making such masks. Please return."
"Why?" Although Zion could tell that this was perhaps what the gentle husband had ordered to this shopkeeper, he still wanted to know why this blind person couldn't create silver masks. "I only want two sets for half a face. My master is famous for her beauty and wants to find a husband at a masquerade party. Please forgive me for not specifying earlier."
After hearing the description, the shopkeeper's expressions lightened, and he nodded. "Then bring your master here. I shall take her measurements and ask her for preferences."
