After Anita presented various fabrics for Alexandra to choose from for her dress, Alexandra was immediately drawn to a black one adorned with red Ylzia script. Its vibrant and striking design captivated her. Anita assured her that the dress would be ready before the Crown Prince returned from the war.
Keith, meanwhile, had lingered a bit longer, continuing his conversation with the shy Cloe. He had asked for her address and inquired if he could write to her, a request to which Cloe, blushing, had agreed. It was clear the young man had taken a liking to her.
Cleo, with her usual flair, selected up to ten dresses for herself and her twin sister. In the end, Cloe settled on a green dress, while Cleo chose two: one red, the other purple. Both were stunning in their own way.
The three young women departed from Anita's shop but remained in the bustling marketplace, deciding to wander a bit more. As they strolled, they stopped at a snack shop to purchase some cookies, savoring the sweet treats as they continued their walk. Eventually, they found themselves standing in front of an archery shop. Though named for archery, it was evident that the shopkeeper dealt in a variety of weapons.
"I want to get a new sword for the carnival," Alexandra announced to the twins, who nodded in agreement. They all entered the shop, where they were greeted by an elderly man with silver hair and piercing black eyes, busily sharpening a knife.
"Good day, ladies," the man said in a gruff voice.
They bowed their heads in return, offering polite greetings. Usually, it was Alexandra's mother who purchased her swords, so she was unfamiliar with the specific store her mother frequented. Today, she had chosen this one by chance.
"I'm looking for swords. Can I see what you have in store?" she asked, curiosity piqued.
The old man rose from his stool, gesturing for the twins to take a seat on the well-worn couch in the corner. The shop wasn't as large as Anita's, but it had a spacious, rustic charm. He led Alexandra into a back room where the swords were displayed, hung carefully along the walls. The sight of so many swords, in different sizes, colors, and styles, left Alexandra momentarily breathless. This was the first time she had picked out swords on her own, and she hadn't realized how stunning they could be.
Her eyes quickly found what she was looking for—a Claymore. It was her signature weapon, a choice made due to its sentimental value. Her late uncle had trained her with a similar blade. The Claymore, a sword ranging from forty-seven to fifty-five inches in length, was perfect for her style.
"I'll take this one. Two of the same kind, please," she requested.
The old man moved swiftly, retrieving the swords and packaging them neatly in long cardboard boxes. When they returned to the front of the shop where the twins were waiting, Alexandra looked to the man, expecting him to name his price.
"The Claymore sword is the most expensive in all of history, as I'm sure you know. That'll be ten platinum coins," the man said, his voice gruff but resolute.
The price struck Alexandra like a blow. She stared at him in disbelief.
The Carmarthens were wealthy, but ten platinum coins was an exorbitant sum for two swords. "I'm sorry, sir, but do you know what you just said?" she asked, incredulous. Surely, this man couldn't be serious. It was common knowledge that gold coins were already difficult to come by, let alone platinum.
In the Kingdom of Caestria, the coin hierarchy was rigid and unforgiving. At the top of the hierarchy was the rare and nearly mythical Palladium coin, which only the royals had ever seen. Two hundred and fifty platinum coins equaled a single Palladium coin. Below the Palladium was the Platinum coin, still incredibly rare, with five hundred gold coins required to equal one. Below that were silver and bronze, the latter being the currency of the common folk.
"I'm sorry, sir, but I cannot pay that amount. It's far too much." Alexandra couldn't help but wonder if this was the same price her mother had always paid for her swords. Surely not. The cost seemed astronomical.
Cleo, ever the sharp-tongued twin, rose from the couch and addressed the old man directly. "Ten platinum coins for two Claymore swords? How about five hundred gold coins? That's one platinum coin."
The man shook his head, unyielding. "I'm sorry, ladies, but I cannot sell two Claymore swords for only one platinum coin."
"Then forget it. Let's go, Cloe," Alexandra said, frustration lacing her words. The three ladies turned on their heels and left the shop without a backward glance.
The old man, unimpressed, merely hissed under his breath. "Isn't she the daughter of a Duke? What's ten platinum coins to her?" He grumbled, shaking his head as he moved to return the swords to their place.
Just as his hands reached for the box, a voice sounded from behind him. "I'll take them. Give them to me."
The old man turned to see a young man standing in the doorway. Without hesitation, the stranger tossed ten platinum coins onto the counter and picked up the cardboard box, turning to leave.
With the swords in hand, the young man walked quickly through the market until he spotted the three women preparing to enter their carriage. He approached, and with a measured stride, called out to Alexandra.
"You wanted this," he said, extending the box toward her.
Alexandra stared at him, stunned into silence. Her mind raced as she struggled to process this unexpected turn of events. The man, sensing her hesitation, introduced himself.
"I'm Austin McCartney," he said, offering a small, confident smile, his eyes gleaming with intrigue.