-Ash's POV
"Ugh, why the hell am I doing this!?" My voice echoes around, anger spilling from every word. Here I am, standing like an idiot while that mysterious woman, Lila, and Des, that relentless, annoying redhead, try to make me wear some stupid clothes. I glare at the pieces of fabric they shove at me, all neat and tidy and definitely not my style.
"What the heck is this?! A ruffle? And what's with these colors?" The outfit in my hand might look fancy and probably costs a fortune, but to me, it's a nightmare, like something a prince from a silly fairy tale would wear.
Des is losing her patience, her cheeks turning a shade of red that might even rival her hair. She lifts her hand to slap me, but I'm ready for her. With a smug grin, I take a quick step back, dodging her easily.
"Hahaha! Idiot! You'll never catch me!" I taunt her, showing off my agility and speed. A brilliant idea pops into my head. "I should ditch this place! And warn Eira about this crazy woman. Why the heck is she buying clothes for Des anyway? It's not like Des is anything special."
I mean, seriously. There's no way anyone would think Des is cute. Maybe terrifying, yes, but cute? Not a chance. And who buys clothes for a stranger out of nowhere? She's gotta be plotting something!
Just as I'm about to make my escape, that Lila woman grabs my arm. I didn't even see her move! How in the world? She's like a ninja or something!
"Come on, don't be like that. You don't have to wear anything if you feel uncomfortable," she coos. Monster! She's totally luring me into a trap!
Des, puffing her cheeks out in anger, glares at me. "You bastard! She's just being nice! Why are you being such a jerk?"
Before I can answer, Des, using her monstrous strength, picks up all the bags filled with the new clothes and hurls them at me. They crash into me with the force of a thousand suns—or so it feels. I stagger, trying to hold them up, feeling like I'm lifting an entire mountain.
"Des! These are heavier than they look!" I shout, my voice sounding a little more panicked than I'd like.
She smirks, clearly pleased with herself. "That's what you get! Now carry them!"
Lila smiles as she sees Des trying on more clothes. The warm lighting in the store makes the dresses shimmer, and the sight of Des in a red dress makes even Lila's heart race. Approaching me, she says with an amused expression, "Wow, you must have it hard, huh?"
I don't respond. I just give Lila a cold stare, hoping to communicate my frustrations without uttering a single word.
"Okay, okay, I'll let you be, dude." She raises her hands defensively, chuckling, and walks back to Des.
I click my tongue in annoyance as I watch Des and Lila, engrossed in their chatter and laughter. What the hell! This is so unfair. Why do I have to follow them around like a lost puppy? That woman is unnaturally fast; I can't escape without her catching me in the blink of an eye.
A brilliant thought pops into my mind. Oh, I know! Kael can save me! All he has to do is tell Des to head back to our base, and she'll have no choice but to listen!
Eagerly, I pull out my TSI. It's a nifty gadget, and thanks to Kael, I was lucky enough to get one. "Only for emergencies," he had said. Well, this embarrassing situation surely qualifies as an emergency.
Ensuring Lila and Des aren't watching me, I quickly type out a message to Kael: [Kael, help me convince Des to stop talking to this one crazy lady and to head back to the store.]
I lean against a rack of clothes, suppressing my grin. In no time, Des will be heading back, and I'll be free from this shopping nightmare.
A moment later, Kael's reply pops up on the holographic screen: [Crazy lady? Explain in detail.]
With a roll of my eyes, I type: [This crazy lady somehow followed me, and now Des seems to be under her spell. They're shopping together, and she won't let me leave!]
After what feels like forever but was probably just a minute, Kael responds: [What?...]
What does he mean "What?"?! I think, frustration mounting. His next message makes me even more antsy: [Send me a picture of... this witch.]
I peek around a clothing rack and spot Lila helping Des adjust the straps of the red dress. Stealthily, I capture a picture and send it to Kael.
Minutes drag on, and with each passing second, my impatience grows. What's taking him so long?
Finally, a notification chime rings out. I eagerly read Kael's message: [Sorry about that, I had to make a call. This 'witch' you mentioned isn't dangerous. Let Des enjoy herself, and just keep an eye on her.]
I groan, loudly enough that Des throws me a quizzical look from across the store.
Why must the gods hate me so much? I lament internally, already dreading the hours of shopping still to come.
-
As the familiar facade of our base looms into view, a deep sigh of relief escapes me. The moment I cross the threshold, I allow my drained body to fall unceremoniously onto the cold, welcoming ground. Finally, freedom from that endless parade of fabrics, colors, and styles.
Des, on the other hand, appears positively glowing. Her joyous aura only fuels my resentment. Her voice full of gratitude, she approaches Lila. "Thank you for helping me choose," Des says, trying to hand over a bag full of coins to Lila.
Lila chuckles softly, waving away the offer. "It's all good. I'm just glad I could help." Her eyes shift to me, still sprawled out on the floor. A mischievous glint appears in her eyes. "You," she says with a grin, pointing at me, "were pretty entertaining. Take good care of this girl, okay?"
She offers a friendly wave, her voice light and teasing. "Bye! Please take care of each other." And just like that, she leaves, her laughter echoing in the distance.
The weight lifts off my shoulders as Lila's presence fades. Yet, my moment of peace is brutally shattered when Des' icy glare locks onto me. Her intense eyes, sharper than daggers, make my blood run cold. I have a gut feeling that my ordeal isn't over yet.
Before I can even attempt to flee, Des's strong hand grips my arm, pulling me towards the store. I resist with all my might, my nails scraping against the floor as I let out a dramatic scream for help. But it's clear: Des isn't finished with me yet.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
-Queen Celeste's POV
Stepping off the mana train, I was immediately met by the bracing cold air. The environment seemed even colder than my demeanor, which, considering my icy gaze and detached exterior, was quite a feat.
Navigating my way through the crowded streets, I soon noticed something peculiar— the throngs of people that had been present moments ago had all but vanished. A chill ran down my spine, and not from the cold. Unexpected. No one should be aware of my arrival. I scanned the surroundings, eyes cold and sharp, alert to any sign of trouble.
With every step I took, the emptiness grew more and more pronounced. I was undeniably walking towards Darius's auction house. A place where the elite gathered, where secrets were bought and sold, where lives could be changed with a single bid. I hadn't informed anyone of my intentions to meet Darius, making the sudden vacancy of the streets even more ominous.
Suddenly, the very walls around me seemed to waver and morph, revealing a group of individuals dressed in opulent, intricately designed uniforms. They stood with a rigidity that spoke of discipline and training. In unison, they bowed, heads lowered in deference.
Another man, more refined in appearance than the rest, emerged from the illusionary wall. Gracefully, he approached me, a bow deep enough to convey respect but not subservience. Bringing my hand to his lips, he planted a gentle kiss, his eyes never leaving mine. "Your Majesty," he began, his voice dripping with honeyed courtesy, "it is an honor to be in your presence. I am Mike. I apologize for not greeting you in a manner more fitting for someone of your stature. Sir Darius eagerly awaits you inside."
My gaze turned frosty, suspicions brewing. Who could have possibly informed Darius of my arrival? The list of those capable of tracking me without detection was slim. "It seems your master finds it below him to greet me personally. An interesting choice," I remarked, my voice as cold as the winds of the north.
Mike merely lowered his gaze, maintaining his respectful demeanor. Without another word, the path was cleared, and I was ushered towards the illusionary entrance to the auction house.
Stepping through, I found myself engulfed in opulence. The interior was lavish, filled with the finest artworks, glistening jewels, and luxurious furnishings. The grandeur of the place was unmistakable, a testament to Darius's penchant for display.
However, what truly caught my attention was the palpable tension in the air. As I casually let my fingers brush against the hilt of my sword, I noted with satisfaction the visible twitch of the nearby employees. Their barely concealed fear, the quickened breaths, the darting eyes—all were telltale signs of their wariness.
"I apologize for their reaction. This is their first time in the presence of a Ruler," Mike remarked, observing the nervous staff around me. With a poised demeanor, he led the way through a maze of corridors, heading towards Darius's office.
Upon our arrival, he gestured towards the office door with a gracious sweep of his arm. "I hope you have an enjoyable chat." His fingers gently tapped on the wall beside the entrance. "These walls are made with Elarian Obsidian," he informed me with a slight grin, "so you need not worry about them crumbling with a mere touch." The implication was clear: if need be, the room would withstand any power I chose to unleash. His cheeky remark about his staff's disrespect did not escape me. Nevertheless, I chose to overlook it, focusing on the task at hand.
Without acknowledging his comment, I pushed open the door. Inside, Darius lounged on a plush couch, a glass of amber liquid in his hand, appearing completely at ease. The audacity! Not only did he send someone else to greet me, but he dared to indulge in casual drinking in my presence.
Upon spotting me, a wide grin spread across Darius's face, revealing his amusement. "Hahahaha! If it isn't Little Rose, all grown up. I didn't expect you would actually visit," he mused, clearly mocking my stature and rank. His eyes then drifted to my hair. "But what's with the hair?" he added with a chuckle.
I remained unmoved by his blatant disregard for formality, allowing no flicker of anger to penetrate my icy demeanor. Instead, I gracefully took a seat opposite him. He paused, observing me, then glanced down at his glass. "Ah, that's right. I heard you prefer wine." With a careless gesture, he tossed a bottle of wine towards me, which I caught with practiced ease.
Mike, sensing my increasing disdain for the man before me, promptly took the bottle from me, pouring the rich red liquid into a crystal glass. Handing it to me, he retreated discreetly.
Taking a sip, I leveled my gaze on Darius, the weight of my words clear in the stillness of the room. "Darius," I began, voice dripping with authority, "you have been making things quite difficult. Do you plan on instigating a war? A national-grade weapon in the wrong hands is a recipe for disaster. I trust you're aware of the chaos you're sowing."