The first gift that master toolmakers presented to their apprentices was customarily a pair of work gloves. While Dahlia’s father had been the first to give her the opportunity to study magical toolmaking, it was an honor to receive this pair of gloves from the director of the Royal Magical Toolmaking Department. She felt obliged to continue striving to do her best.

“The gloves can resist freezing temperatures and high heat, so they should be helpful when creating magical tools that utilize fire magic. However, they will only protect your arms from the heat. Be sure not to get too close to your enchantment and burn your hair— Ah, apologies. I spoke to you as if you were Carlo.”

“My father made magical tools that used fire?”

“Yes. When we were students, he once increased the output of a large magical lantern for the winter festival too much and scorched his bangs. Oz—I mean, Chairman Zola—was with him at the time, and the two of them sported short bangs for quite a while afterward.”

“My father and Professor Oswald...?”

Never mind her father, she couldn’t imagine Oswald doing something like that. When she tried to envision the two of them with short, burned bangs, she could only picture them as the older men she’d seen most recently—not a flattering look in the slightest.

“Professor Lina was infuriated. She made them sit in the hallway, as they do to discipline students in Esterland, and gave them quite the tongue-lashing.”

“Professor Lina? But she’s so gentle. I can’t imagine her getting that angry.”

“Professor Lina,gentle?” Uros repeated, wide-eyed. In her youth, she must have been a different woman from the professor Dahlia knew.