Of course, he knew what she meant! He had just been surprised, that was all. Cecil continued writing a few more things down before setting the parchment aside and looking back at them.

"I think that is all... I’ll go ask the old man if he’d like to meet you."

She put on a pondering expression.

"Don’t keep your hopes up, though."

She slowly pushed herself up from her chair with visible effort before walking toward the door.

"You can have a seat while I’m gone."

She pointed toward a pair of stuffed chairs positioned against the wall near the entrance.

...

Cecil sighed as she stopped before a pair of heavy metal doors.

"I really need some sleep..." she muttered.

She grabbed one of the vertical handles and pulled one of the doors open with a metallic groan. Beyond the doors, she stepped inside a massive and chaotic room. It was cluttered to an almost unbelievable degree.

Materials were scattered everywhere. Half-finished devices lay across tables and the floor alike. Strange screens lined parts of the walls, glowing faintly with shifting symbols and diagrams.

There were wires, tools, mechanical parts, chunks of metal, and even a pile of gold bars carelessly stacked in one corner like someone had forgotten they existed. The place looked less like a workshop and more like the aftermath of a magical explosion.

And yet, there was a strange sense of order hidden beneath the madness.

Cecil walked through it all without hesitation, clearly familiar with the maze of clutter.

She passed by a circular platform near the centre of the room, where something inside a massive water-filled tube slowly breathed.

The thing inside was obscured by bubbles and pale liquid, but its silhouette looked... unnatural and alive. However, Cecil didn’t even spare it a glance.

She continued deeper into the workshop, stepping around yet another large platform before finally reaching the back area.

There, a man stood hunched over a workbench.

Middle-aged.

Or rather, aged middle-aged.

He had a large, round belly and wore an oversized pair of thick goggles while working on something with complete focus.

So focused, in fact, that he hadn’t even noticed her arrival. His appearance was rather wild. Unkempt didn’t even begin to describe it.

His hair looked like it had exploded upward from his scalp, puffed out to unreasonable proportions, every strand standing stiffly in different directions as though he had recently been struck by lightning.

His beard was no better; it was equally chaotic and puffed out, and both were a deep brown colour.

"Solron," Cecil called out.

The man paused and slowly looked back over his shoulder from whatever he had been working on.

"...Hmm?"

His goggles reflected the strange lights around the workshop.

"Cecil?" He dropped whatever tools he was holding with a loud clink before slowly getting to his feet.

And before Cecil could react, he suddenly pulled her into his embrace.

"Solro—mmph!"

Without the slightest bit of shame, the man grabbed handfuls of her ass. digging his grubby, rough fingers into the tight flesh before pressing his dry lips against hers, while grinding her lithe body onto his round belly.

"Mmmm—"

Cecil squirmed against him, embarrassed more than anything, eventually managing to push herself free from his grip.

"We have guests," she said with a visible blush.

"Bah!" Solron waved dismissively. "Who cares about some guests? I’m sure it’s nobody important."

He reached toward her again with absolutely no restraint.

"Indulge me a little," he grumbled dramatically. "It’s been so long since I last took you to bed."

Cecil’s face reddened even more.

"It’s the prince," she added flatly.

"Tch!" He clicked his tongue in annoyance, "That damned brat..." his expression soured visibly.

"What does he want this time?"

"He’s brought another hero with him," Cecil replied. "You can probably guess what he wants."

"Of course... I don’t get paid enough for this..." He complained. Solron groaned dramatically, rubbing his forehead.

"You got their request, no? I’ll make whatever they want," he muttered. "But I have no interest in meeting yet another hero."

Cecil nodded lightly and began stepping away.

"Then I should head back before they start wondering where I wen—"

She suddenly felt a hand hold onto her wrist and pull her back again.

Cecil stumbled slightly, immediately coming face to face with the older man’s unmistakably starved expression.

And just like that, she knew she wasn’t leaving anytime soon without appeasing him somehow.

’I really don’t want to keep them waiting...’ she thought inwardly.

But then again, she also knew how stubborn Solron could be.

"If you’re worried about keeping the brat and his friend waiting..."

A large grin spread across his face.

"How about just a quick one?"

Cecil stared at him for a moment.

Then sighed deeply.

"...You’re impossible."

She eventually nodded, and Solron wasted absolutely no time.

He pushed her back against the edge of his workbench, hands already sliding her short skirt along her smooth legs while she let out an embarrassed gasp.

...

Roughly fifteen minutes later, Cecil emerged from the workshop once more, the heavy metal doors shut behind her with a hiss.

She hurriedly adjusted her clothes and fixed her hair while walking back down the hallway, a faint flush still lingering across her face despite her attempts to compose herself.

...

"What could be taking her this long?" Elion asked Alexander with a raised brow.

They had already been waiting for twenty minutes or so.

At first, they had managed to pass the time by talking about random things, but there was only so much meaningless conversation two people could have before patience started wearing thin.

Alexander simply shrugged in response.

"Who knows? Perhaps they had matters to take care of," he said casually. "Or maybe he’s preparing to meet us."

"Anyway, we can only wait and hope they come soon."

Elion nodded lightly. He wasn’t exactly impatient; he was just curious.

"What is this crafter like anywa—"

Just then, the office door opened, and Cecil walked back in briskly.

"Sorry to keep you waiting."

"It’s no problem," Alexander waved it off lightly.

Elion did the same, though his gaze lingered on her neck for a moment. He spotted a particularly noticeable red mark sitting there.

’Is that... A lovebite?’

Elion’s brow twitched slightly.

’...It cannot be right?’

But he knew exactly what it was.

It suddenly made sense why she had taken this long.

’That sneaky bastard...’

Elion barely managed to suppress the smirk forming on his face. He became even more irritated when Cecil calmly informed them...

"Master Solron won’t be able to meet with you. He’s currently occupied with a... very important project."

Elion stared at her for a second.

Then internally shook his head in disbelief.

’So this guy has time for spicy activities with his assistant... but no time to meet the prince and the hero?’

He didn’t think much of his title as a hero, but Alexander at least deserved some face. Elion quickly found himself understanding the man’s logic.

’I guess every man has his priorities...’

Honestly, he probably would’ve done the exact same thing. Especially if a pair of brats suddenly appeared, demanding equipment and a personal meeting. The fact that Solron was even willing to craft legendary-grade equipment was already generous enough.

Then again, he was probably being paid obscenely well for it. Cecil soon moved on to taking Elion’s measurements for the armour.

Elion also handed over one of his spare uncommon-grade swords so she could take note of the blade’s shape and proportions. Once the finer details were sorted out, Alexander finally asked the important question.

"So when can we expect the equipment to be finished?"

Cecil touched the bridge of her nose tiredly.

"...Whenever the master feels like it, I guess."

A sigh escaped her lips.

"I reckon he’ll want to finish whatever he’s currently working on first."

Alexander nodded calmly, seemingly already used to this kind of answer.

"But I’ll make sure to send a messenger to the inner court once it’s done," Cecil added.

With that settled, the pair bid her farewell. Alexander even reminded her to get some rest when she had the chance. That was when Elion finally learned why the two seemed so familiar with each other.

Apparently, they were related in some way, distant relatives, of course. Later, as they walked back through the manor, Elion asked about Solron. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

Alexander chuckled lightly.

"Solron has a habit of turning away most people who ask to meet him," he explained. "Though he’s far more tolerant toward me and the royal family."

The nobility of Haven, however, has suffered greatly under his hand for many years." He smirked faintly.

"He has a terrible reputation among them."

Alexander shrugged.

"Of course, that’s only because he refuses to let them use him. He’s not actually a bad person."

Elion nodded lightly. That was completely understandable. He could respect people who stayed steadfast to their values.

In a world full of bootlickers and pretentious bastards, Elion had always found earnest people much easier to interact with.

People who spoke their minds and didn’t bend themselves into strange shapes just to please others.

Whether they were rude, eccentric, shameless, or difficult, so long as they were genuine, he could tolerate them far more easily than smiling snakes hiding behind fake courtesy and polished words.