B-ronken-R-ing 159...

***

Though she had been ready to gallop away in fury the previous day, Inés now stepped with poise into the awaiting carriage headed for San Talaria.

"Why make the journey to San Talaria? If you need jewelry, I can summon my trusted jeweler. She has impeccable taste," Isabella suggested.

"I wish to purchase a gift for Cárcel. Perhaps a jewel or a watch-something befitting a gentleman," Inés replied, keeping her intentions deliberately vague.

Isabella's slight frown suggested she didn't see why Inés would go through so much trouble for something like that. "We can also summon a jeweler for men's items. Must you go in person?"

"I prefer to see the selection myself, to find something that truly speaks to me. Our residence in Calztela is quite modest, so I've grown accustomed to traveling to El Tabeo for such matters. I find it quite enjoyable."

"Cárcel would be moved to tears even if you gave him a branch from that tree over there."

Isabella must have heard of her son's recent visit to Escalante Manor. His unexpected appearance at the evening party at the palace and his wildly romantic gesture were still the talk of the town. He was a terrible son for not even bothering to greet his mother before hastily departing to spend a few precious hours with his wife.

"Indeed, he is oddly humble when it comes to gifts, but I cannot settle for that," Inés said, not denying Isabella's observation.

Even if she presented him with a mere branch, Cárcel would undoubtedly frame it and treasure it forever. He would imagine that the stick held some deep theological or literary significance, however absurd. He was so utterly besotted with her that he had framed her three or four lines of correspondence.

"You two are quite endearing."

"Your son is, certainly, but not I," Inés responded demurely. "I shall take my leave now."

Her first destination in San Talaria was a weaponry shop.

It was an obvious choice. While Cárcel Escalante would have loved even a simple branch from her, a branch couldn't protect him. She needed to get him something more suitable.

***

The biggest advantage of being wealthy was the fact that you could relieve your anger through extravagant spending. You could spend as much money as your frustration warranted, and you could buy as many items as your wrath dictated.

Upon arriving in San Talaria, Inés walked into the upscale weaponry shop and purchased the latest firearms and miscellaneous weaponry. It was a rare sight for a noblewoman to visit such a shop in person, let alone to buy dozens of the most expensive weapons. She swept across the whole shop with composure, unfazed by the onlookers staring at her from outside.

This was not the first time a lady had entered the shop with the intent of buying a gift for her husband. As the heart of Ortega, Mendoza was the most hostile capital. Duels of vengeance were as common as Sunday mass at the chapel. In Mendoza, gifting a firearm to one's spouse was akin to saying, "You can kill everyone else, so please just survive," a sentiment deemed incredibly romantic. At times, the husband in question might find himself on the receiving end of the bullets inside the firearm rather than receiving the weapon as a gift, but apart from such occasions, it was considered a grand romantic gesture.

Even the cheapest firearm cost a fortune. For many, purchasing a halfway decent one required considerable savings. As brutal as it might seem, spending one's life savings on such a gift was seen as the height of romance.

Inés had selected not only one or two of the finest firearms, but nearly half of the shop's display. When asked where to deliver them, she instructed, "Have them all sent to Lieutenant Cárcel Escalante's residence in Calztela," rendering everyone in the shop astounded.

Then, in the middle of the shop, she wrote on a card with a silk ribbon, handed to her by Alfonso. Using her butler's back like a desk, she penned her message with the same care as any lover sending flowers, jewelry, or luxurious leather goods.

"Remember that your body is of equal importance as mine, so always stay vigilant and protect it. From your wife, Inés Escalante de Perez."

"Now, take this card and wrap everything beautifully."

"Pardon me, madam, but... how does one wrap weapons beautifully?" the shop owner asked, perplexed.

"Does this card not give you a clue? Tie silk ribbons around them. Anything looks pleasant with a ribbon."

The owner stared at her, speechless.

"Oh, and there are two residences in Calztela under Lieutenant Escalante's name. That rifle, that baldric, and that holster-have those sent to the residence on top of Logorño Hill. For the rest... Alfonso, how would you describe the place?"

"I shall give them the address in writing. Do not worry, Madam."

"Very well, then."

Her next destination was yet another weaponry shop. This one was smaller than the first, but specialized in pistols, which were much more expensive. Many of them were ornate, ceremonial weapons used by nobles. Though few realized their practical utility, these pistols were indeed worth their high price tags.

Inés started by picking out pistols one by one but soon grew impatient and demanded that a whole wall of displayed weapons be sold to her.

Behind her, Juana whispered to the butler, "Don Alfonso, do you think Madam is planning to recruit her own army?" but he remained silent, maintaining his deference to his mistress.

Once again, Inés scrawled on a card adorned with a ribbon.

"I pray you live a long life.

From your wife, Inés Escalante de Perez."

Inés continued her spree, sweeping through several weapon shops in San Talaria and purchasing much of their stock. She insisted that anything she found particularly eye-catching be wrapped in a ribbon. She also purchased regular firearms in bulk and sent them off with a short message to Cárcel, telling him to present them to the soldiers in his unit.

As furious as she was, she calmly quelled her emotions through shopping, as if to pay Cárcel back for the admiral's hunting rifle he had gifted her.

She did not get any swords as they required proper honing, but she did buy the most expensive and sharpest daggers to hide throughout their residence. She completely ignored the fact that Cárcel already owned an impressive armory.

She knew of his hobby of visiting El Tabeo to collect rare weapons whenever he felt downtrodden. She considered making a dedicated space for him in their residence that looked like a large-scale weapon shop for him to immerse himself in. Since she had yet to get him a proper gift, apart from the fox skin he had insisted on during their hunting trip, this was the perfect opportunity to do so.

Next, Inés visited a jeweler, where she ordered several pairs of solid gold cuff links bearing the navy's coat of arms, along with several cuff links for everyday wear. She also purchased diamond buttons for a long coat and pins for shirt collars. While looking at an array of pocket watches, she realized she had never had clothes made for him and went into a tailor's shop nearby to order dozens of outfits for him. Then she found a workshop that made wonderful leather crafts and purchased every conceivable item that could be made of leather for him to wear.

Only then did Inés finally feel a sense of calm and return to her carriage.

"Did you really wander about so freely in El Tabeo, my lady? It must have been dangerous. At least here, you are escorted by the soldiers of House Escalante," Juana commented, her eyes reflecting concern.

"It wasn't particularly dangerous."

"You used to refuse to leave your bedroom, saying it's too bothersome. I'm quite astonished... How did Raúl tolerate you exposing yourself to such risks?"

"He tolerated it well enough," Inés replied, her tone nonchalant.

Juana's brow furrowed in curiosity. "How modest is your residence in Calztela that you must make your own purchases? Raúl mentioned that it was ridiculously small, but I assumed he was merely exaggerating."

"It is indeed too small to summon merchants, but big enough for us to live in."

Inés rested her chin on her hand, gazing at the landscape passing outside the carriage window. She had left Alfonso at the last store to handle the final arrangements, and with the knights and soldiers riding alongside the carriage, she was alone with Juana inside. It almost felt like a regular day before her marriage.

The strain of a restless night and a morning spent in a whirlwind of shopping caught up with her. She felt her eyelids grow heavy, and unconsciously, she drifted into a light slumber.

Her green eyes, unfocused, suddenly snapped open as they caught sight of something on the bustling street. "Stop."

"Pardon?" Juana asked, startled.

"Stop the carriage this instant."

Inés's gaze was fixed on a glimmer of silver-white hair weaving through the crowd at the corner of Mercedes Street.

Before one of the knights could dismount and reach the carriage door, Inés flung it open herself, nearly tumbling out of the carriage in haste.

The other knights, still on horseback, all paled at their lady's reckless movements and called out in alarm, "Madam!"

Ignoring their cries, Inés sprinted toward Mercedes Street, her heart hammering with a sense of recognition she couldn't quite grasp. It was as if she were possessed by an unseen force. She wasn't sure who exactly it was she had glimpsed, but she knew it was a familiar face-so familiar it tormented her that she couldn't remember the person's name at all. Her breath came in quick, shallow gasps as she pushed her way through the crowd; her heartbeat reverberated through her whole body, pounding from her head to her toes.

It's you, isn't it? It's you! The thought echoed through her mind like a ghostly whisper, urging her on. /mustn't lose sight of him. Not this time. Inés Escalante, you must catch up to him-

"Rojelio!" The name burst from her lips in a breathless yell, sounding unfamiliar to her own ears. Inés stared as the crowd swallowed him from her sight.

But soon, as if by some divine intervention, the crowd parted like curtains of a stage, revealing a man who had stopped in his tracks and was now turning back to face her.

The busy scene of Mercedes Street warped and distorted like a reflection in a cracked mirror. He stood there, untouched by the chaos, while the world around him blurred and shifted.

A dimly lit church, flickering candles casting long shadows, an old, frayed veil obscuring her vision, trembling fingers, a thin silver band encircling her

ring finger like a thread, and a stately voice-all these memories surged forth vividly.

"Juana," the priest, clad in a cassock, called her by a name she had once borne. "It must be you, for you remember me."

It was the name of the sixteen-year-old girl who had married an unknown artist in a countryside chapel in Vie de Mar long ago.