The afternoon sun slanted through the tall windows of the pharmacy's back office, casting long, golden stripes across the wooden table. Spread out before Paul, Lisse, and Amelia were sheets of parchment covered in ink, crossed-out words, arrows, and scribbled notes. Several vials of the skincare products sat in the center, gleaming softly in the light.
Paul leaned back in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He had thought the hardest part was over—perfecting the formula, stabilizing the gravity magic, ensuring no one turned to stone or floated away. But now, standing between him and success was something far more difficult: a name.
Amelia, sitting comfortably with a cup of tea, smiled gently. "That is true. A good name is half the sale. But it has to fit. It has to feel right."
"And we are the judges," Lisse added proudly, puffing out her chest and holding up a quill like a gavel. "I have very high standards, Young Master. If it sounds weird, silly, or makes me think of mushrooms, it's getting rejected!"
Paul sighed, then gestured to his list. "Very well. I have categorized them into two approaches. First: Scientific and Precise. These emphasize quality, research, and reliability."
He cleared his throat and began reading.
"First one: Gravitational Stabilized Hydration Elixir."
Lisse blinked. She looked at Amelia, then back at Paul. She didn't even hesitate. "Rejected."
"Why?" Paul asked, frowning. "It describes exactly what it does! It uses gravity magic to stabilize moisture retention!"
"Because it sounds like something you'd find in a mechanic's toolbox, not something you put on your face!" Lisse argued. "It sounds heavy and… and complicated! Nobles want to feel beautiful, not like they're applying engineering!"
Amelia nodded in agreement. "She has a point, Paul. It sounds effective, yes, but perhaps a bit too technical. It doesn't evoke beauty or luxury."
Paul made a mark through the name. "Fine. Next: High-Density Nutrient Concentrate."
"Rejected!" Lisse shouted immediately. "Now it sounds like animal feed or fertilizer! 'High density'… sounds heavy! No one wants heavy skin!"
"Purified Essence of Silk-Suckling," Paul tried again.
Amelia frowned slightly. "Ah… while accurate, including the name of the weed it comes from… 'Silk-Suckling' sounds a bit like something that drinks blood or drains you. It's not very elegant."
"Rejected!" Lisse chimed in. "Plus, people will ask what a Silk-Suckling is, and then we have to explain it's a weed that grows in mud. Bad branding!"
Paul groaned and flipped the page. "Okay, moving on to the second category: Noble and Elegant. These are designed to sound sophisticated, exclusive, and refined."
He adjusted his collar. "First candidate: Elixir of the Azure Moon."
Lisse tilted her head. "Hmm… sounds pretty. But… does it have anything to do with the product? There's no moon in it. And it's not blue."
"It sounds noble," Paul defended. "It sounds mysterious and expensive."
"It sounds like a potion that makes you turn into a wolf," Lisse said flatly. "Rejected."
"The Duchess' Secret."
"Too common," Amelia said softly. "Every other shop has something called 'The Lady's This' or 'The Duchess' That'. It doesn't stand out. It sounds like we copied someone else."
"Celestial Radiance Formula," Paul tried, looking hopeful.
Lisse made a face. "Celestial? Paul, when you use this, you glow, yes, but 'Celestial' makes it sound like it's blessed by the gods or something. If it doesn't do magic, don't name it like it does. It's misleading advertising. Rejected!"
"Imperial Perfection?"
"Too arrogant," Amelia said with a polite smile. "And we haven't sold to the Emperor yet. Let's not get ahead of ourselves."
"Crystal Dew of the Highlands?"
"Too long," Lisse said, waving her hand. "And it sounds cold. Like ice water. Your product is warm and nourishing. Rejected!"
Hour after hour passed. The sun dipped lower, shadows lengthening across the room. Candles were lit. Parchment was covered in more and more crossed-out names.
Paul was running out of ideas.
Lisse was getting pickier.
Amelia was sipping tea calmly, enjoying the show.
"Pure Luminosity?"
"Rejected. Sounds like a lantern."
"Velvet Touch?"
"Rejected. Sounds like fabric softener."
"Essence of Vitality?"
"Rejected. Sounds like medicine. We are selling beauty, not health!"
"Aurora Borealis Complex?"
"Rejected! Too fancy! And hard to remember!"
Paul slumped onto the table, head in his hands. "I have tried scientific, I have tried poetic, I have tried regal, I have tried descriptive… you have rejected every single one. What is left? Should I just call it The Good Stuff?"
Lisse laughed. "Well… if it was that mysterious rookie inventor Lixia naming it, she'd probably call it The Amazing Super Glow 5000 or something. But we need something simple. Something honest. Something that tells people exactly when to use it and what it does."
Amelia leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "You know… the product itself is very simple in concept. The day version protects and refreshes. The night version repairs and nourishes. You don't need to hide what it is behind fancy words."
Paul looked at the vial of the thicker, richer formula—the one that caused the floating hair incident, the one that worked best while people slept.
He thought about it. All the complicated names, all the attempts to sound high-class or intelligent… none of them felt right. But the function was simple. It was meant to be used at night. It was a cream.
He sighed, defeated but calm.
"…What about Night Cream?"
Silence filled the room.
Lisse opened her mouth, ready to reject it out of habit, but then she paused. She blinked.
"…Night Cream?"
Paul nodded. "That's it. It's a cream. You use it at night. Simple. Direct. Easy to remember. No fancy words. No confusing descriptions."
Amelia smiled, her eyes lighting up. "You know… it works. It's elegant in its simplicity. It sounds reliable. It sounds like something you would trust to put on your skin before you sleep. It doesn't try to be something it's not."
Lisse thought for a moment, tapping her chin. "Night Cream…" She tested the words out loud. "It sounds… soft. It sounds gentle. And the day one could be Day Serum…"
She looked at Paul, then grinned. "Okay. I accept it. It's not too scientific, and it's not trying too hard to be noble. It's just… perfect."
Paul slumped back in his chair, exhausted but relieved. Outside, the sky was completely dark now. They had spent the entire afternoon and evening arguing over words, only to end up exactly where they started.
"Good," Paul said, picking up his quill to write the label. "Then it is decided. Night Cream."
Lisse leaned over his shoulder as he wrote the neat letters on the jar.
"See? Sometimes the best names are the simplest ones," she teased. "Even if it took you six hours and fifty rejected ideas to get there."
Paul gave her a flat look, but there was a small, relieved smile on his face. "Next time, you come up with the names."
"Nope! I'm just the judge," Lisse said cheerfully, skipping off to get some candles. "And I am very strict."
Amelia chuckled softly, watching them. "Well, whatever the name is… once people try it, they won't care what it's called. They'll just want more."
And so, the product that would soon be famous across the capital didn't have a fancy, magical name. It simply had a name that told the truth: Night Cream.